


Pieces

by rosiedoesfic



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Death, Grief, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosiedoesfic/pseuds/rosiedoesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An allegory in pieces. You know how it ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remember the Silence

Remember the Silence  
 _I guess I knew it all along_

 

Adam Stackhouse and his colleagues had been on McMurdo, tucked away in the depths of the Antarctic, for eight months already and it had been the most boring goddamn year of his life, so far. Each day that passed, nothing changed. The landscape was identical, the weather was identical; every day they covered the base security, and every day no one came. Not even a penguin. There was nothing to do on duty, nothing to do on downtime. People were always whispering that that sort of environment could send a guy crazy; personally, Adam doubted that half the marines on the base had enough mental capacity for insanity and suspected the rest of them had already reached it.

Initially, his squad had been drafted in just to cover security for a six-month stint, and had been scheduled to ship out back home for a break before they were drafted back across to the Middle East or some such pit. But then things started getting strangely busy around McMurdo – they were working frantically on some TSBS (Top Secret Bull-Shit) fifty miles out, and people were coming through the main research base all the time.

It was extremely screwed up that the highlight of any marine’s week was acting as base ‘customs’ and getting to rummage through people’s possessions for an hour; but when there was nothing else on offer, you took what amusement you could get.

The situation was pretty much the same in the mess hall.

“Aw, great,” Jones groaned as they queued for whatever was masquerading as food that night, reluctantly holding out his tray to have a spoonful of gunk slopped onto it, “It’s not-beef hash _again_. Hey – hey, Gourmet, you want a cook book for Christmas?”

“It’s change-over day,” Stackhouse muttered, grimacing at the splattering sound it made on his tray, “You know it’s _always_ left-overs on change-over day.”

“Can’t have the newbies getting too comfortable, Jonesy, they might wanna stick around,” Walters added, turning to the bored-looking cook and gesturing to his tray for more.

“Sure; and the moment they say that, they’re gonna stick’em back on that plane, send ‘em all straight back to some nice white room and give ‘em a new jacket.”

Walters laughed and nudged Adam in the back, “Hey, Stack, you think they’ll bring us some chicks this time?”

Adam really hoped not.

They moved over to their usual table, sitting down for the daily bitch about military food. When you spent your whole life with a small group of people, and never went anywhere that wasn't regulation concrete-grey or freeze-your-balls-off white for that long, there wasn't whole lot of new conversation to be had. He was just scooping his first forkful of sodden packet-mash into is mouth when the double doors swung open, a part-delighted, part-mocking whoop went up, and half the room started singing 'Welcome to the Jungle'.

Adam was half-way into a thought that this was the behaviour that substantiated his belief that everyone else had cracked up, when the whole room seemed to have been taken over by just… _Oh_.

A guy had walked in, one of the change-over boys; Adam wasn't even sure what was happening for a second – he seemed disproportionately close, like waking up staring at minutely patterned wall-paper – and their eyes had locked and they weren't looking away and now he was smiling across at him, although Adam wasn't sure how he knew that because all he could see were the huge, hazel-green eyes and – 

"HAAAA! Aww, Stacky, you want a bib? Here, let me tie this around your neck, shall I?"

The jab in the cheek would have been enough to snap him back to reality, but a huge, stupid marine grappling at him also worked reasonably effectively.

"Get _off_ , Jones!" he growled, wiping at his face in embarrassment. The new guy was still watching, a tentative smile twisting at the corner or his mouth. Adam scowled at his plate and tried to ignore both the fact that he was blushing and the fact that the new guy was _still_ looking at him – looking at him a whole lot like he _knew_ something.

"So what got _your_ tongue, Stack? Did they actually bring us some chicks?" Walters was virtually out of his seat to check, an on-going commentary spilling from his smart-ass Chicago drawl. "Huge black dude, woah – arms as big as Jonesy's head; oh – and is that a chick in drag?"

Jones turned around to stare. "Naw, but he looks about twelve years old. Must be on work-experience," he said, turning back around and laughing at his own joke.

"Aw, look at Stack, he looks so disappointed! Maybe they'll send us one of those hot little scientists over soon, huh?"

Adam prodded at his food and cast his 'comrades' a spiteful glare. They continued to laugh in his face until a shadow fell across the table, and a warm, slow voice said, "Hey."

_Oh, you've got to be kidding._

"D'you guys mind if I sit here?"

And there he was. Standing beside them, tray in hand, eyes like wagon wheels. Adam wanted to say no, go sit with your own squad, leave me alone, 'cause I can see what you're doing and I'm not buying it.

Instead, he silently shifted along the bench and made room for him to sit.

"Nah, kid, park it, c'mon."

"You got a name?" Walters asked, reaching across the table and almost sticking his arm in Adam's plate. He shoved it out of the way impatiently and Walters clipped at him before moving back to shake the new guy's hand.

"Uh, James Markham; Sergeant." He patted a set of very new-looking epaulettes, and grinned.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. Wasn't really expecting them…"

"So, Jim – "

"Oh, uh, no – um… call me Jamie; Jimmy's my stepdad and James is sort of formal-only."

"Whatever. Jamie; my name's Walters, this is Jonesy – and happy face here is Stackhouse. Isn't that right, Stack?"

Adam just gave him another Look and nodded at the new guy, whose proximity was making him jittery and tying bows in his insides. He forced himself to concentrate on his food – or at least look like he was – and just listened to the others.

"Where you from, _Jamie_?"

"Wichita. Well… sorta. A way outside, really."

"Kaaansass!"

"So, what brings you into the icebox? Most guys down here got busted, but I figure with stripes that new you ain't exactly in the black book, yet."

"Oh, I volunteered," Markham declared, nonchalantly digging into his corned beef hash.

Immediately, Jones was on his feet, yelling, "Okay, boys, take this one home and give him his voucher for the white jacket! We got a _volunteer_!"

The younger marine laughed a little and explained, "They were looking for a few engineers, so I said I'd come down…"

"You're an _engineer_?"

He was blushing, now, and not looking anyone in the eye, "Well, they wanted me to finish college and I grew up with farm machinery, so... I'm still a _marine_ , just… They needed some down here 'cause the experts were getting sick of you guys breaking stuff. So… I volunteered."

Finally, Adam found something to say, and gazed at the marine beside him in disbelief, "You're kidding, right?" And there were those damn eyes again – and _hello_ , eyelashes like a fucking snuffleupagus. 

"No, sir. I guess I just didn't wanna get blown up right after getting my new stripes." He grinned and caught his eye again, and the only thing stopping Adam from smiling back was the fact he felt like he'd swallowed a mine.

 

"So, I guess we're not on duty tonight…?" Markham said, as they walked out of the dining hall toward the barrack block.

" _We're_ not," Adam muttered, his whole left side suffering pins and needles as Jamie walked along beside him, close enough that their arms brushed when they moved.

"Depends what squad they've assigned you to."

"Oh – Green."

"Then no, you're not," he told him, the realisation that Markham was to be part of their own small squad making his stomach flutter embarrassingly. He wasn't twelve any more, for God's sake.

"So what do you guys do around here on downtime?"

"Oh, the usual… S.F.A."

"There ain't a whole lot _to_ do down here," Walters explained, holding open the door to the rec room, "You either play in the pool tournament, or you sit on the couch yelling at everyone to shut the fuck up so you can watch a movie you've already seen six hundred times and actually kinda hate."

"And that's why you're dumb for wanting to come down here, kid. All the chicks are fifty miles out, so you can't even get at them…"

Jamie looked at Adam for confirmation, his round eyes even wider.

"You mean y'all _lied_ to me? There ain't no fun and games?"

"What did you _think_ there would be to do in the South Pole?"

Adam's question was intended to keep the younger marine at arm's length, mocking him slightly and trying to seem less approachable. Instead, Jamie looked at him searchingly for a moment, then actually grinned broadly, all dimples and eyelashes. 

"Um… make snowmen?"

Adam stared at him in disbelief and he stared back, and it took a moment for Adam to register that they were standing in the door way gazing at each other.

Instead of walking into the rec room, Adam gave a small huff and turned back down the hall. He needed to get away from this uncomfortable turn of events before he went as crazy as everyone else. Markham's arrival had thrown him completely for a loop – a loop he'd kept as far from as he could, for the past several years – and which he'd forgotten exactly how to deal with. All he wanted to do at that moment, was to hide his head under a pillow for a few hours.

"Where're y'going?" Markham called after him, sounding mildly disappointed.

"To figure out how long it takes to suffocate yourself."

_  
He was eighteen years old. An eager young man, standing in the front row of a squad of new recruits, drill sergeant laying down the law to them in clipped, domineering tones. He watched, carefully, as two marines walked across the edge of the parade ground, one looking over at the newly formed squad as he went. The marine smiled, Adam's chest contracted and blood rushed to his face. It was a bad way to start a career that didn't allow for even a hypothetical inclination towards one's own gender. Developing a crush on the first day was almost the worst thing that could happen._

_He knew – he'd always known – that girls weren't his thing; but the life he chose for himself didn't allow for the alternative, so he convinced himself to do without and pursue his childhood aspirations regardless. The fewer people he had to care about him the better, anyway. He'd signed up as soon as he was old enough that his parents couldn't prevent him. His father had never forgiven him; they hadn't spoken civilly since Adam was twenty-one._

_Two weeks after he signed up, one of the squad in another barrack had his rifle sprayed pink and was subjected to what the others called a 'blanket party', which left him in the infirmary for three days. In his sleep, he had murmured 'Casey' and his room mates had assumed it referred to another marine in his squad. In fact, it had been his fiancée._

_Adam's only thought had been, "Thank God I wasn't there." He could never have stood by to watch it happen, but he couldn't have risked defending a 'queer' and raising suspicion against himself. It was a dreadful moral dilemma that he didn't want to face. All he had ever wanted to be was a marine, if they threw him out, what would he do with his life?_

_Instead, he had brought him a book to read and eventually they became best buddies. He was best man at the wedding. He was a pall bearer when he was killed in action six months later. When Casey gave birth to their baby, she named him Adam._

_Neither of them ever knew._

 

It went on for weeks, but no one seemed to notice anything strange; everywhere that Stackhouse went, Markham was sure to follow. Anything the security team were asked to do, somehow Markham was on Adam's working party. On downtime, every video they re-watched, every game of pool they played, there was Markham and the puppy-eyes (within hours Walters have given him the nickname 'Toto'), watching and smiling and being completely unassuming.

The thing was, Adam was growing used to him. Sometime in the first week, he'd figured out that underneath the eyelashes and country-mouse-in-the-big-city naïveté there was a reasonably intelligent guy who learned quickly, had an unhealthy capability for tolerating anything the kitchen staff put in front of them and an irrational and all-pervading positivity that rubbed off on just about everyone. Half the time, the whole country-boy act was put on for their amusement; the rest of the time, it was just kind of endearing. He played a game with Jonesy, sometimes, where they'd pick something a 'city-slicker' could do that a 'hick' couldn't, and vice-versa. The one about artificially inseminating a cow put them all off diary products for a week, and Markham played up to it at every opportunity ('Hey, Jones? Want some moooo-re milk? Are you done with that slice of roast beef? Y'know – my sister, Joni, had a sort of pet cow when we were kids… She called it Clarabel. She was a really lovely animal, actually. Barbecued just right…'). 

Honestly: Adam really liked having him around.

 

They were sitting in the rec room, late on a Thursday evening after all but three of them had gone to bed when things really began to get difficult. Jamie was sitting cross-legged on the floor by Adam's feet, playing noughts and crosses by himself; Jones had already made another dog reference, which Smith picked up on and turned filthy. In time, the game degenerated to random doodling and a blue-biroed scene gradually began to depict a small, boggle-eyed dog in a series of ungainly situations. It was stupid, childish artwork, and after ten minutes of pretending not to watch, Adam gave up ignoring him and asked, "Markham, exactly how old are you?"

"Bored and three quarters."

Adam snorted at him, and kicked him lightly with his boot. "Y' don't say?"

"Nearly twenty-seven," Jamie amended, petulantly.

"If you're so bored, why don't you go to bed?"

Jamie looked up at him, trying not to smile, "Is that an offer, Sergeant?"

Walters looked up in disbelief. "Well, kids, I'm gonna turn in. Don't get into too much trouble after I'm gone, I don't want to have to write home to your parents."

"Night, Joe," Jamie said, a little too eagerly, waving him off. As soon as he was gone, he climbed up on the couch beside Adam, sitting sideways and looking at him curiously.

"What?"

"Nothing."

" _Markham_ …"

"Really, nothing."

"You're staring at me."

"You're always so serious."

"You're always so over-familiar."

"Does it bother you?"

"You're going to get yourself a reputation."

Jamie smiled and turned a little red, "You didn't answer my question."

Finding himself backed into a corner, Adam scowled to himself, not wanting to get into a conversation he couldn't rescue, and didn't answer.

"You going to start rumours, Stack?"

"Why would I do that? Walters is probably doing it for us right now. And so, I'm going to bed before anything dangerous can be said that I can't fix." He pulled himself to his feet and turned to walk away, but Markham grabbed at his wrist forcing him to stop. His whole arm burned.

"What if he does?"

"Then I'm probably as screwed as you are."

"Stack – I'm not – "

"Good for you. Go back to your barracks." He walked out before the younger marine could say anything more. Things, in his opinion, were not going well; mostly because it had been such an effort to leave at all.

 

Briefly, Adam tried to avoid him – and difficult situations – altogether, but four and a half weeks after the change over, he and Markham were scheduled for guard duty out at the tiny sentry point beyond the airstrip. They trudged across the compacted ice and snow and settled into the tiny six-foot square shelter. Nights were long and the cramped conditions were uncomfortable at the best of times, but after a couple of hours of the first fresh conversation Adam had seen in the past four months, it didn't seem to matter, any more. After four or five, they'd lulled into a comfortable, drawn-out phase of occasional, irreverent comments, their chairs side by side, but facing in opposite directions, to cover all four directions visible through the wall-to-wall Perspex three feet from the ground; idle chatter, comfortable silence.

He'd thought that by walking out of the rec room a week ago he had put pause on Markham's less than subtle behaviour, convinced him that he wasn't interested, even if he couldn't prove – falsely – that he wasn't at least _inclined_ towards it. But they were alone, now, half a mile from the nearest person and bonded by the invigorated camaraderie of deep conversation and commiserating over each other's losses in the field. Things were different. He no longer saw Jamie as the pure-hearted little puppy he presented to them most of the time. He saw a deceptively resilient young man who had seen a lot more than his mild, accommodating nature betrayed. It seemed less that he was still a child at heart, than he made himself hold on to that part of him that hadn't been corrupted by the sort of death and destruction they all saw in the line of duty. When Adam asked him why he had even joined the military, the younger marine had smiled a little ironically and said, "Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but I just needed to do something a million miles from running a farm just to keep it going for the next generation. Wouldn't even have been my own kids…"

Adam supposed he had achieved that goal, one way or another.

His gut clenched agonisingly when Markham sighed sympathetically and rested an affectionate hand on Adam's shoulder as he retold a story – a friend he'd seen step on a mine, being hit in the face by a dismembered arm – and began rubbing gently. He didn't stop him. He couldn't – he could hardly breathe without choking. The warmth radiating from the other marine was almost suffocating and although he'd known, instinctively, from the moment he had laid eyes on him, he daren't risk so much as a squeeze of his wrist in return. It was totally improper and, potentially, vocational suicide (never mind a prison term). He knew when he joined the marines that it meant giving up any sort of emotional attachments. He'd accepted it, got on with it and managed perfectly well for the past ten and a half years. He couldn't just screw up now.

Markham was looking at him again; the same look from the rec room, intense and open. Searching, but knowing. Tentatively, the hand resting on his shoulder slid down to settle on the arm folded across his lap.

"Y'okay? You've gone quiet…"

Adam looked away, trying to clear his throat before he choked on his paranoia. _Please, stop. Please, please take your hand away from there_. He tried to ignore the weight on his arm, but it only drew his attention to it more. His skin prickled beneath the fabric, and his pulse began to race, trying to force blood in two directions at once.

Markham tilted his head and began to withdraw the hand, carefully. "Would you 'rather not know'?" His voice was measured; almost but not quite neutral.

This was the most ridiculous conversation Adam had had in months, and that was really saying something at McMurdo. He gave a tiny, ironic laugh and said, "It's a little late for that. You have all the subtlety of a _scud_ , Sgt. Markham! The way you've been acting the past couple of weeks, I'm surprised the whole base doesn't know. I thought the whole _place_ was going to figure you out just for staring like that in the mess hall. And if they had, that would have been _it_ for you. They would have sent you home on the return flight and given you your marching orders right there. Things don't change down here just because it's cold…"

He realized, as he finally found a chance to release all the pent up worry he had felt on Markham's behalf – tried to make him appreciate the gravity of what he was doing – that he'd partly grown afraid that command would figure out and really take him away. Especially since their conversation that night. It turned out they had a lot more in common than he'd realised.

"You didn't look away, either," Jamie reminded him, eventually.

"You are just so _lucky_ you picked on someone who isn't about to report you. They could court-martial you just for starting this conversation!" 

"It wasn't luck, it was just that I knew you wouldn't." 

"Bull."

"Then why aren't you pushing me away?"

And he wasn't. Even though it was an obvious cue to do it if he intended to, he just averted his eyes to look at the edge of the gloved hand on his face and allowed it to linger. Then there was breath on his cheek and he closed his eyes for a moment, lips tingling as he tried to push away the surreal, 'I'm-not-really-here-and-this-is-a-dream' feeling welling in his chest. But when he re-opened them, he couldn't help but look back, catching his eyes and finding himself fixating on them through the dark. He was so transfixed that when a second hand gently settled on his face, all he could do was blink and wait for lips to follow. 

As he pulled away and smiled down at him, suddenly shy, Jamie murmured, "I won't tell if you won't."

 

Creeping around McMurdo, trying to find some time alone to figure out what they were doing was even harder than Adam would have anticipated. Every time they thought they'd found a way, something would happen to screw it up. Three nights in a row they had stayed in the rec room waiting for everyone to head off to their barracks under the pretence of wanting to watch a movie without the crashes and cheers of the on-going pool tournament. Each night, Jones and Walters had chosen to stick around and watch it with them, ensuring both Adam and Jamie were _actually_ obliged to as well. By the fourth night, when they were due to stand sentry on the West Point, Jamie was so tired Adam allowed him to curl up against him on their chairs and rest for a couple of hours. It felt comfortable, even satisfying, to be wrapped up together like this and the longer he stayed like it, the more he regretted that they would eventually need to stop.

He squeezed his eyes closed and forced himself to swallow as he felt a tentative kiss on his neck, signifying the fact that Jamie had woken a little. With a deep breath he squeezed his arms around him tighter, awkwardly rubbing his cheek against hair, prickly from gel, and a soft fleece hat. His stomach was fluttering. He wondered if Jamie was feeling the same way, or if this was some irrational optimism borne of the fact that for the first time in a long time the reason he was so close to someone wasn't that he was dragging their battered body from a war ground. 

Tenderly, he allowed himself to kiss Jamie's forehead, hoping that he would never need to do that for him, and was soothed a little when he felt a hand seek out his own. But then the other man was pulling himself out of the languid slouch and leaning up to kiss him. And he didn't protest. He let him push closer and press cold-chapped lips to his own as the grip on his hand was released and moved to the side of his face instead. 

He had genuinely forgotten how much he missed this, but it was too dangerous to pursue, most of the time. The fear of being caught was more than enough deterrent. But it was a strange sort of relief that overwhelmed him as Jamie tucked his hand under the thick fleece material at the base of Adam's spine, rubbing soothing fingers across his skin. He had expected nerves or paranoia; perhaps some sort of arousal. Instead, it was the relief of finally being allowed to sit after a 60k march and the bone-aching sense that he had wasted a hell of lot on a career. His formative years – a whole decade and more – had been spent risking his life for a country which thought he should lead the life of a monk for the privilege. Until a few weeks ago, he had numbed it out so much he didn't even think about it any more. He was quite embarrassed that Jamie had managed to sweep so much of his self-discipline (delusion, maybe) under the carpet in just a few moments. An extremely attractive, likeable guy walks on to the base and develops an instant crush on him? He would have thought it too good to be true, if it didn't have the potential to wreck his entire life.

"Jay?"

"Hm?" he murmured, pulling away and looking up at him uncertainly.

"What are we even doing, here?"

"Uh…"

"I mean, seriously: why are you doing this?"

Jamie looked at him, his round hazel eyes hurt, "'Cause I thought…" he trailed off and started again. "'Cause I think you're hot, and you… seemed… Okay. No. I _know_ you like me, Adam. I'm the one who's confused, here. You don't need to fake the whole straight thing - I'm not one of them, I -

"That's not the point."

"But it _is_ – that's all that needs to matter."

"In case you didn't notice, we're in the _Marines_. It's not all that matters. What matters is risking our asses like this. You may be okay with that but I'm – "

"Do you think I do this all the time, or something?"

Adam stared at him for a few moments, processing the idea. He looked away when he realised how much he hated the idea of anyone else being close to Jamie like this. He was already in deep enough to be jealous.

"I'll take that as affirmative," Jamie told him, obviously hurt and disappointed – and slightly resigned. 

Adam wanted to pull him close again and take it back, make it better. "I don't…"

"You think I do this all the time and I'm just dicking around here until we're shipped, right?"

"You wouldn't be the first."

Jamie leaned back into his seat and wrapped his arms around himself, "Right." He stared off out of the window and didn't say anything for several minutes. "It's not what I'm doing, Adam."

"I know." And he did know. He'd known that much all along, but he couldn't just jeopardise the façade he'd spent the past ten years building for a couple of uncomfortable fucks in a storage cupboard. Or a sentry station. And the idea of anything more involved worried him; it made them both vulnerable.

"Two."

"'Two' what?"

"That's the number of people in any way connected to the armed forces that I have even _kissed_. And one of those is you." He'd started to sound less hurt than frustrated. Adam had just started to feel guilty, and a little stupid.

"Jamie…"

"I'm not an idiot, and I'm not a touring Marine Corps slut."

"I didn't say you were."

"Then, d'you wanna try and trust me?"

"I'm trying."

Jamie looked at him through the darkness for a moment, then turned deliberately on his seat; "You could prove that."

"Yeah?" His heart was racing again and he started to wonder how likely a healthy young marine was to have a heart attack.

"You do it: _you_ kiss _me_ , this time."

That was the moment that Adam realised that in the nicest possible way, Jamie Markham was one of the most devious people he'd ever met. He almost burst out laughing at the idea, but instead, he did as he was told; he leaned over and pulled him into a kiss. He felt a triumphant smile against his mouth, just before he was pushed back into his seat and he felt a hand fumbling to work its way beneath his several layers of thermal clothing. Protests about the cold died in his throat as he felt the hesitation of a glove being tugged off and the smooth, warm hand returned to work its way down from finding bare skin at his navel. Nakedness in these temperatures was just dangerous, but not everything required that…

He was just beginning to forget where they were when there was a sharp beep and a voice said, "Sgt. Stackhouse, this is base, please respond. Over."

They froze where they were, shocked for a moment at the sudden disturbance, before realising that there was no one actually near them and that they had only heard the radio. Breathing deeply and giving the other marine an alarmed look, Adam clicked on his radio to speak, trying not to sound hysterical.

"Base, this is Stackhouse. Is there a problem? Over."

"We were just going to ask the same thing. You're ten minutes late checking in, Sergeant."

Jamie clasped a hand over his mouth in a mime of 'Oops'. Adam frowned at him and replied, "Apologies, Corporal. Lost track of time…Over."

"Acknowledged, Sergeant. Please try to keep on schedule. We're receiving reports of expected blizzard conditions over the next twelve hours. You have two before you're due back here; if you're not back in two-fifteen we'll send out a search party. We don't want to go losing anyone. Base out."

For several long seconds after they stared at each other, equally horrified by the near-miss.

"Well," Jamie sighed eventually, shifting to snuggle back against him as he had done for the past few hours, "I guess that kinda killed the atmosphere."

Still feeling rather stunned, Adam gave a small, strained chuckle, and wrapped his arm around Jamie's shoulders trying to get comfortable. They still had a couple of hours.

 

Over the next few weeks, a task which was mostly loathed by the marines grew to be time they looked forward to. The discomfort of the sentry cabin and the deep chill of the Antarctic didn't exactly encourage physical intimacy, or the inclination to remove any of several layers of thermal clothing, though. After four weeks of almost thrice-weekly duties, after the other squad on rotation left, the most they had achieved were a few fumbled hand-jobs and a lot of snuggling. 

One night, on the way back from the cabin, Adam was asked to report to the Colonel's office. He had been convinced that they had somehow pressed the speaker button on the radios and they had heard everything – which would not have been something they could have exactly passed off as a misunderstanding; there was only so far you could interpret the words, "The last guy I slept with was an old buddy from grade school I hadn't seen for fourteen years."

"Sgt. Stackhouse," the Colonel Mason had said, giving him an 'I'm going to give you bad news and try to make it sound good' smile, "Glad you could make it."

"I came as fast as I could, Sir." He winced inwardly at the choice of words.

"Not a problem, Sergeant, not a problem. Take a seat."

Adam sat down and waited for the bomb to drop.

"Sergeant, I've received a request from Col. Sumner to send him six of our men while six of his are returned home for leave and possible re-location."

"Sir…"

"Well, Sergeant, you're my most senior non-commissioned officer, excluding Anderson, and I would like to give you the opportunity to select five more members for your squad and have your things ready to ship out by dinner tonight."

This was not what he had been expecting. Not even slightly. "Anyone, Sir?"

"Excluding First Sergeant Anderson, Corporal Holland and Corporal Reeves, anyone you feel is suitable."

"Sorry, Sir – may I ask what they should be suitable for, Sir?"

"Well, I don't need to tell you, Sergeant, that what is being undertaken at the base is of highest security. We need six reliable, capable marines to take part in one of the world's most significant and sensitive projects. I am not at liberty to reveal what this may be, but I can tell you that we are looking at one of the greatest scientific discoveries that will be made in your lifetime. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Then I will expect you to report to me with a list of five names in twelve hours time. Dismissed."

"Sir."

Adam turned and left with his heart in his mouth. This was as close as it came to his first command, and he was allowed to take Jamie with him.


	2. This Modern Love

This Modern Love  
 _Not much a poet, but a criminal._

Jamie squinted and staggered as vivid sunlight reflected from the snow and blinded him for a few moments, as he jumped out of the helicopter. Adam reached out to steady him, unnecessarily, and forced his snow-shades into Jamie's hand. Jamie glanced down at them, and smiled. It was the sort of sweet, subtle gesture Adam had been offering increasingly regularly, of late; Jamie figured it was just his way of showing affection, because he wasn't much of a tactile person. Whatever Adam's reasoning, Jamie appreciated it all the same.

Behind them, Smith, Parker, Allett and Fauske were heaving out their packs and waiting to follow Maj. Sheppard, some smart-arsed Californian who'd been busted down to hail'n'ride, over to the domed complex they were moving to.

"You okay, Sergeant?" Adam asked him, letting his arm linger a bare fraction longer than necessary.

Jamie heaved up his Bergen and swung it easily over his shoulders, before slipping the wrap-around snow-glasses on. "Sure," he replied, flashing him a grin so innocent it looked incredibly sly. "Lead the way."

Picking the ‘Bullshitters’, as they referred to the team in private, was not simple. Adam had explained that even though Jones and Walters had been what passed for friends before Jamie arrived, he had left them off of his list – which had been approved without any amendments – mostly for selfish reasons. First of all, they were a double act, but Walters was already starting to look at them strangely, as if he was starting to suspect something was going on that his ear-to-the-ground had failed to pick up; and if he knew, it was only a matter of time before Jones knew. And if Jones new, it was seriously bad news. Then there was the fact that they _were_ all buddies, so most of the time they hung out. And three was a crowd, but four was a Second Verifiable Witness, which really wasn't a good thing in their situation.

He'd covered his choice by picking two soldiers from each of the three security teams. It left each squad with twelve men; it was easier, simpler and more practical if he was ever asked for explanation. 

Which was why Adam was the tactical specialist and Jamie was the Grunt Who Could Change a Spark Plug.

Sheppard led them over to the security cabin and instructed them to sign in before abandoning them to speak to the Canadian scientist whose luggage Adam had once had the ‘privilege’ of searching. He'd told Jamie it was about 75% full of chocolate and snacks and the rest was about two shirts and a pair of shorts. Jamie had never forgotten about him. McKay was a class-A asshole, apparently. Looked like this was going to be quite a party. The kind of party where you ended up trying to explain suspicious stains on the ceiling to the base CO.

The guy on security had been through McMurdo a couple of times since Jamie had been stationed there. He was a fast-tracker, that much was obvious; younger than Jamie himself and with a wide, cheeky grin he never seemed to take off his face. He stood there in his arctic gear greeting everyone like a theme park attendant for a few minutes before Adam walked over and introduced himself.

"Lieutenant Ford; SSgt. Adam Stackhouse reporting for security detail as requested by Col. Mason." 

"Cool," Ford said, grinning (obviously) and nodding. "You all need to come inside for a briefing, then I'll take you down and give you the Grand Tour."

He led them into a large elevator that slowly passed down through hundreds of feet beneath the ice, stopping what Ford told them was a quarter of a mile below ground level. It made Jamie feel a tiny bit claustrophobic and he sidled slightly closer to Adam for comfort, not sure he liked the idea of living all the way down here. Finally, Ford heaved open the creaking elevator door and stepped out of the cage, gesturing for them all to come along. Still grinning. He led them down corridors without windows in what seemed to be a labyrinthine complex of laboratories and storerooms and eventually stopped in a dingy dead end with six doors and along each side and one at the far end.

"Okay, so this is the where you guys will be sleeping while you're here. We've got two rooms of four bunks – this one – " he unlocked a door with his swipe card and shoved it open, "got four of the good beds; this one – " he opened the door opposite, "got two sets of bunkbeds. I'll let you guys fight over who sleeps where, but those top bunks, there – _total_ death traps. If the food or the cold don't kill you, the guy sleeping over you might do that in his sleep." His grin grew wider, and he looked at each of them as if expecting them to laugh along.

Fauske gave a tiny cough and the rest of them just shifted uncomfortably, looking slightly spooked.

For a moment, Jamie thought that Adam would do something stupid, like pick one of the others to cover their tracks; he actually looked like he was pondering the matter. "Okay... I'll have to take one of the death traps, seeing as all the rest of you look petrified. Markham – you're with me. The rest of you can have the 'good' beds."

Jamie made the effort to at least look put-out about being denied a 'good' bed, while in fact wanting to punch the air. The other men didn't question the decision, and immediately piled into the room to offload their kit. Jamie gave Adam a reproachful look for effect and was about to tease him for making him have an uncomfortable bunk while there was a perfectly good bed across the hall; but then he realised that Lt. Ford was leaning against their door frame, waiting for them. 

"Where're you guys from?" he asked brightly.

"Uh...Wichita. Sorta."

"Seattle, Sir."

"Been out here, long?"

"Just a coupla months," Jamie said, smiling over at him and shrugging a little. "Ad – Uh. Sgt. Stackhouse has been here a long time, though. Right, Stack?"

"Right, _Sergeant_."

"So, um. You guys friends?"

"Yeah – "

"No." 

Jamie stared at him, surprised by this answer. _What?_

"Comrades, Sir."

Ford grinned at him and leaned away from the door. "You don't really have to freak out about stuff like that, man. Things are... kinda kooky around here."

For a moment, there, Jamie actually thought Ford had figured them out. But he continued, cheerfully:

"We're a long way from home and hardly anyone is military. They're all, like European Scientists and stuff. They don't understand. It's easier to be friends with everyone instead of just 'comrades' anyway. So long as you take your orders and don't mention it in front of Sumner, you'll be cool."

Adam looked uncomfortable, as if messing with his perception of military standards was too much to comprehend.

Ford laughed at him a little and said, "C'mon, I've got something so cool to show you guys."

 

Walking into the Exploration & Development Room was, it had to be said, incredibly fucking cool. And cold. It was also incredibly fucking cold. Two and a half of its sides were just bare ice, which sort of explained it. Jamie’s eyes were even more saucer-like than usual as he stared at the small groups of scientists studying contraptions like he had never seen, and tried to comprehend all the new information about the world he was being handed.

This was incredible. Both in the sense that it was amazing and in the sense that it didn’t seem possible. People walking through a big metal ring made by an ancient super race and turning up on another planet? Even another galaxy? They may as well have told him to go walk to the end of the rainbow for his pot of gold.

“Sergeant?”

He jumped at Adam’s voice and the feel of a hand grasping his shoulder. The others were already traipsing for the elevator, glancing back in stunned disbelief.

“Are you okay, Sgt. Markham?”

Jamie blinked and smiled at him, “Sure… just a little wowed. It’s… well, it’s pretty fantastic isn’t it?”

“If you like that sort of thing,” Adam replied, quirking an eyebrow at him. “You’ll have plenty of time to look around, don’t worry. I’ve got a feeling we could be here a little while.”

Adam gave him a little tug and muttered, ‘C’mon’ as he walked towards the cage. He didn’t let go straight away and Jamie felt quietly pleased. 

Lt. Ford and the others were waiting and he seemed to be answering some of the questions anyone new to the wonders of interstellar travel were bound to have.

“…and it’s sorta like swimming in jello in a wind tunnel for a couple of seconds and then, _fwuuum_. You’re there. Just standing there on a whole other planet. Tell me that ain’t cool!”

Allett and Parker didn’t look so convinced. They exchanged slightly worried glances and seemed to lean barely perceptibly away from the door.

“Hey, trust me: it’s _cool_. Seriously, seriously cool. But I’m pretty sure they’ll be sending some of you guys out there anyways, so you’ll get to check it out for yourselves soon enough.”

“Lieutenant,” Adam said quickly, “we’re just here for security detail, Sir.”

Ford grinned at him, “Yeah, that’s what they said to me, too.”

 

When they were finally allowed to make their way to the dorm rooms, Jamie hovered for a moment, trying to get used to the new space. It was considerably smaller than some dorms he’d stayed in since he’d joined the Marines. In fact, it was smaller than some _tents_ he’d stayed in. The military had a habit of cramming as many guys into a single room as possible and then wondered what went wrong when two totally heterosexual marines were caught in ‘unbecoming’ situations. And he’d seen that happen. Oh yeah. He’d seen two of the guys from his squad packed up and shipped out in forty-eight hours just for being caught yanking Weird Al. It wasn’t even as if they had been doing something they couldn’t have done themselves.

Sometimes he thought that guys were really, really stupid.

Eventually, he stopped dithering and leaned against his bunk. He stepped back in alarm as the whole thing swayed ominously and made a dangerous creaking sound. When it hadn’t collapsed after ten seconds, he figured he was safe enough for the time being and dropped his hands down to his side. He hadn’t entirely noticed that he had held them up to catch it if it fell apart.

On his own bunk, Adam was watching him with the faintly indulgent smile he gave him when he thought he was acting like a dork.

“I guess Lt. Ford was right about these things being a deathtrap…” Jamie mumbled, feeling like the dumb hick everyone thought he was. “Six years in the marines and I’m gonna get killed in my sleep by regulation furniture, I know it.”

“You won’t,” Adam assured him, still reclining comfortably where he was, one of his hands twisting idly in the grey blanket.

Jamie wasn’t sure whether to move over and join him, or if he should just wait and not push the issue. He never quite knew what Adam expected of him and what would render him silent and unresponsive. It wasn’t even that he was moody, as far as Jamie could tell, he just wasn’t so good at talking about things. Being so in control, and hiding his feelings for so long hadn’t done him a whole lot of good. He was so much less comfortable with himself than Jamie was. Jamie knew that whatever being a marine turned him into, he was always going to be James Markham from Kansas. He was always going to be an ex-fat kid and he was definitely going to always be a queer. Adam was the sort of guy who really wanted to be 'normal' – a Good Soldier – that badly, that he'd turn himself into some kind of android if it was necessary.

Jamie was glad to have caught him before the shame killed off the rest of him.

They couldn’t shame Jamie out of what he was, though. Even the local pastor hadn’t been able to do that by hauling him up on stage in front of the congregation and trying to rid him of the Devil when he was barely sixteen. He had felt shame then, but not because of the fact he had been caught with a guy; it was because that guy was engaged to his cousin.

_The summer was always too hot to sleep much, in Kansas, so the teens from the little cluster of farms on the slopes of the shallow hill spent nights running wild in the fields, or sitting out on each others' porches, dreaming of a life away from corn and cattle._

_Bradley was two and a half years older than Jamie, but he spent a lot of time at the Markhams' farmstead with Laurie-May. She and Jules were closer than sisters and Jerry was so much older than all of them that he spent all his time with the adults. He was too good for the 'kids' by then, so as the only teenage boys around the top fields, Bradley and Jamie had spent a lot of time together. They were close._

_Bradley was cool, and eighteen years old; he listened to rock music and was allowed to borrow his pa's truck. Jamie worshipped him, but he didn't really understand the rest of what he felt until the mid-August night before he turned sixteen – his birthday just a week away. It had begun with little, innocuous touches; a light tug that left warm, invisible hand prints, an arm on his shoulder as they walked down the track to the lake. Shared jokes that felt like secrets no one else understood. And that night they were out in one of the fields together, slightly drunk on stolen beer and they had begun to 'tip' a few cows – pushing them over while they slept on their feet – but ran away when some of them started to charge. All he remembered was running for the wooden fence and throwing himself over it, Bradley landing half atop him, and then just hands and kisses and grass prickling at his back; wondering if God really was watching them._

Whether God had been or not, he still wasn't sure. But he'd found out soon enough that Laurie-May had been. She still wouldn’t talk to him, all these years later.

The thing was, he’d learned that being found out sucked, so he’d joined the marines because fuck, if they caught you, they as good as hanged you, so it was a fairly damn effective deterrent. Aside from that one time, when a guy in his squad in Afghanistan had freaked out when they were lost on night patrol and seemed to be surrounded by dish-cloth wearing renegades with big fuck-off guns, and a comforting hug in a ditch had ended up as an awkward comfort _fuck_ , the theory had pretty much worked. Especially as the guy had decided to go over the top a couple of hours later, when they heard what sounded like a Hercules coming over. He’d come straight back down to the sound of shell fire; missing a large potion of his head. Once in a while, it still gave Jamie nightmares. But it meant there had been nothing left to pursue.

“ _Jay_?” Adam sounded a little worried as he called his name, for what Jamie assumed was not the first time. He blinked a few times and turned to look at him, making himself smile. “Hey, you sort of zoned out, there - you alright?”

“Uh, yeah - yeah, sure I am,” he replied, moving over and perching cautiously on the side of Adam’s bunk. “Are you?”

Adam frowned and nodded, laying back against his pillows again. After a minute he asked, “D’you think anyone will read anything into this? I mean, into my choosing you to share with me in here?”

“Not really,” Jamie shrugged, shaking his head, “they’ll just think how great it is that they got the ‘good’ beds and hard luck to me for not.” He smiled, trying to encourage the other soldier to do the same. He didn’t. He just looked at him nervously. Jamie actually wondered whether Adam was going to try to bail on him and push him away before they’d really had a chance to get things started. 

The thought weighed leaden in his stomach, because it seemed kind of strange, but the moment he saw Adam he’d been drawn to him. Adam still thought that the first time he’d caught sight of him had been in the mess hall, but that wasn’t the case. He’d first seen him through the window as he walked back on to the base with Jones, Walters and some of the others, his cheeks red from the cold and his hat in his hand. They were all laughing, but Adam was just smiling wryly and his eyes were shining. He seemed more mature, more reserved than any of the others and it wasn’t just because of the silvery grey flecks in his hair; they were contradicted by his youthful face, and there was no way he could have been more than thirty. He looked kind and deep and complicated in ways that Jamie couldn’t pin point. It felt like starting school again and wanting to make friends with a kid that seemed kinda like him, but just not knowing how.

Adam had stood out as different then, and in the mess hall, watching him across the room as he caught Jamie’s gaze and was so distracted that his fork missed his mouth, Jamie understood why. It hit him like a hurricane, a little, and blew him away. He just knew, beyond any shadow of doubt and all he could think of was that he had to get to know him. If nothing else, they could be friends. With that sort of thing in common, it would be stupid not to be. He had already known that they were on the same squad; the guy registering all the newbies had actually gestured at the window and declared, “And that there’s your squad, anyone listed in Green.” Jamie’s small circle of green canvas, which was to be worn beside the stripes on his epaulette, had suddenly felt like a winning lottery ticket in his hand.

He thought that he was getting what he wanted, lately, but sometimes he was still afraid that Adam just wasn’t ready to go breaking the rules he lived by.

Trying to hide his uncertainty, he reached out boldly and pressed his fingers against the soft cotton material covering Adam’s stomach. It was slightly convex because his arm was raised to rest behind his head and because he didn’t seem to be breathing normally. It sounded shallow, as if his nerves were quietly fraying beneath the surface. Jamie subtly worked on the material, rubbing gently with his fingers so that it gradually ruffled and exposed the side of his stomach and his hip; it felt more legitimate that way, and less like he was pushing for something Adam was too frightened to accept.

Jamie’s heart skittered as Adam suddenly reached out and grasped the hand on his stomach, lifting it carefully away. He sat for a moment, unsure what was about to happen, while Adam pulled himself up into more of a sitting position. Then, to his relief, Adam leaned nearer, reaching out to tilt Jamie’s face towards him, and haltingly pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. Jamie felt so relieved - so proud - that he simply sat there at first, enjoying the fact that he didn’t have to give up hope just yet.

“Jamie?”

“Hm?” he murmured, opening his eyes to look into Adam’s. They were so open and vulnerable, a little like a rabbit caught in headlights and a little like a baby just as it’s lip begins to quiver.

“If we get caught - ”

“We won’t.”

“You don’t know that. And if we are, we’re not going to see each other again for a long time.”

“ _If_ they catch us.”

“I know, but ‘if’ they do…” he took a deep breath, “I won’t regret it.”

Jamie’s heart pattered to a momentary pause. “What?”

“I won’t regret losing my career over this.”

“Oh - hey, listen - ”

“No, shh. I’ve reconciled myself with the idea. I can live with it.”

“You shouldn’t have to, Adam - ”

“I know. But seeing as I do, I guess we should just make sure it’s worth both our careers, and maybe even a jail term, huh?” He smiled, then, nervous and uncomfortable and Jamie hardly wanted to be the one Adam gave up his career for. As the senior NCO, he was sure to take most of the liability.

So Jamie pulled away and stood up, moving back towards his side of the room.

“Jay - I’m not trying to push you away.”

“Shh,” Jamie replied, kneeling down to dig in his pack. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly. If we’re laying our futures down for this, we need to take some things into consideration.”

“Like what? What are you looking for?”

“Uh… just gun oil.”

“Gun oil? Oh. Oh, no, Jamie seriously - have you ever got that stuff on your skin? It burns. Maybe I have an allergy to it, but seriously, you don’t want that on your skin.”

 

Jamie tried to hide a smile as he pulled the small canister from one of his side pockets. “I know,” he told him, standing up, “but I didn’t think the bunk frame would have that problem.” He gave his own bunk a light shove to illustrate his point. He may as well have been dancing on it for all the noise it made. “I figure that if we’re careful not to draw anyone here, no one’s likely to come by. And we can pull the table across so that if they come by they can’t open the door right away and we can tell them that we just found out the X-Files is _real_ , so we took precautions. They can’t argue with that.”

Adam looked at him like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“I’m serious,” Jamie told him, turning over the gun oil in his hands. “I kinda like being a grunt… but, y'know... being with you isn't so bad, either. If I can find a way to do both, then I’m going to.”

He was surprised when Adam scrambled up from his bunk and pulled Jamie to him, clutching him desperately, but hesitating before finally leaning in to kiss him. They were crushed so tightly together that they almost over-balanced. Jamie buried his face in Adam’s shoulder, smiling to himself simply because he was _happy_. Once he had started to get to know Adam a little he’d learned that he was perfectly right about him being complicated, but he was also caring and affectionate and over the few months he had been at McMurdo, he’d really grown to care about him. The fact that this sort of intimacy had been impossible there had meant that they’d initially grown to be more like best friends. Adam was protective of him, not being at all afraid to tell the others to shut the fuck up if their teasing went too far; he was one of the most senior soldiers there, he could afford to do that. It was preferential treatment and in a way, Jamie actually enjoyed it. 

Right now, though, he was nervous. They were both nervous, because it wasn’t just a case of being caught, this was the first time it looked like that they might progress beyond awkward fumbling in the freezing cold. There was still a chance that they would be really bad at this, that they just weren’t suited to each other. And then there was the issue of _practise_. Jamie hadn’t been near another guy since Afghanistan, and while Adam hadn’t told him how long it was since he’d been with someone else, Jamie was fairly sure it was even longer than Jamie’s twenty-one months.

He was actually aware of the hands on his back trembling slightly and he turned to kiss him on the cheek, nuzzling against him in the hope that it would encourage him to kiss back. It did. Suddenly, they was nothing but frantic kisses and hands fisted in t-shirts. There was an edge of desperation that didn't seem to be fading, as if they had to get this done as quickly as possible because someone might actually stop them and the only thing Jamie's mind seemed capable of thinking was that as many items of clothing as possible should be discarded _right now_. 

He fumbled with Adam's t-shirts, doubled up because of the cold, and started to tug them up, his own catching and riding up as he did so. Adam gave a tiny hiccup and flinched as Jamie dropped his t-shirts and pulled him back towards him. The feel of warm skin was as comforting as it was rousing, but just stopping for a hug in the middle of foreplay would possibly have been the stupidest thing ever, in Jamie's book.

Adam apparently disagreed, because he caught Jamie's hands and stopped him from reaching for his belt. "Waitwaitwait..." he began breathlessly, pulling away but looking at him like a tiny part of his brain was devising uses for his body while the rest fought for coherence. "You were going to – "

At that particular moment, Jamie couldn't have cared if he was about to find a cure for all known disease – he just wanted to get on with it. He had Adam right there – flustered and half-naked and stunning – and stopping for any reason seemed absolutely out of the question. Except – 

"Jay – the _bunk_ – "

"Huh?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, just give me the oil. I'll do it."

 _For fuck's sake, alright_.

Jamie laughed at him a little and poked one of his nipples, bending to pick up the canister that had, at some point, slipped to the floor; Adam was quite the blusher, but his face was almost crimson.

"It's cold," he tried, helplessly.

"Pity, I was thinking you were actually getting into this..." Jamie teased.

Adam actually allowed himself to smile, wrapping his arms across his chest to ward off the slight chill. It was easy to forget they were under a quarter of a mile of ice. "No one's getting in anywhere until that bed it fixed, or we'll have everyone in this complex in here.."

"Could you try to sound a little less like my wife, already?"

"I'm not. I'm sounding like your senior NCO."

"Anderson never spoke to me like that..."

"Give him long enough, and I think Ford might..."

Jamie laughed, pleased that Adam was relaxing a little, and handed him the canister so he could work on the other side.

"...and then I'd have to do something that would get me busted down to private," Adam added, paying particular attention to the join he was oiling. There was a long silence in which Jamie stared at Adam and Adam pretended he didn't notice. "I've got to admit, this is the first time I've had to grease up the bed before anything else..."

"There are some places you'd pay to get to do this," Jamie smiled, quietly pleased that Adam was at least hypothetically prepared to punch an officer out over him. He eased himself down on to the bed and reached out for the pocket on Adam's BDUs, pulling him nearer. "I think it's done. _Sergeant_."

"As good as it'll ever be, I guess. You want me to, uh... get the light?"

"Oh... uh, yeah, sure." 

The room went black and a light scuffling sound made its way to the bed. Jamie reached out with both hands, seeking out the other soldier in the darkness. A moment later, fingers knocked awkwardly with his own and he grasped at them, laughing and tugging Adam towards him. Adam laughed quietly, too and half climbed, half tripped on to the narrow bunk, bashing his head in the process.

" _Fuck_ , that hurt!" he groaned, rolling on to the mattress, beside him, clutching his temple.

"Poor baby," Jamie teased gently, "Let me kiss it all better..." He pulled him close and pressed a kiss to the skin beside Adam's tenderly rubbing fingers. It seemed to work wonders, because the hand on Adam's temple immediately moved across to Jamie's cheek, holding him close as he kissed him, as if he thought Jamie was intending to go somewhere.

Jamie pulled him closer in response, wrapping his leg behind Adam's and ensuring that they were pressed together as tightly as possible in as many places as possible. Unfortunately, Adam then began to slide his hands hopefully under Jamie's shirt and his comforting gesture was ruined as he had to pull away to remove it. Aside from the sudden bite of the room's chill, it was worth the effort. Moving caused some interesting friction, even through BDUs and thermals, and a moment later cuddling had been abandoned for urgent belt-tugging and scrambling with clothes it seemed the military had designed _specifically_ for the purpose of hindering moments of desperate lust.

And it had been a long time. It was a struggle not to just make the most of the available contact and forget the rest, but after an eternity of struggling with laces and bungees and a million _pointless_ buttons it was a relief to be free of the restriction of clothes and able to crawl under the blankets.

By the time they collapsed down into each other's arms, sticky, sweaty and just a little on the incoherent side of speechless, Jamie had decided that anything less would have been conning themselves out of one of the very best experiences of his life. He'd had better, more practised sex in the past, sure, but it had been impossible to form any sort of bond with anyone for a very long time. This was different; it was Adam. Adam who he had spent more time with in the past few of months than he had with his own family in two years. It was just different. It mattered. 

He buried his face in the soft curve of Adam's neck and pressed his hands flat against the smooth, warm skin of his back, holding where he was and not wanting to let go.

 _Adam mattered_.

 

It was nearly seven weeks into their time at the ASGC that Jamie and Adam were met in the mess hall by Lt. Ford. He beamed at them in his now familiar manner and slapped an envelope into Adam's hand. 

"We're outta here!" he declared, patting him on the shoulder, shuffling through the rest of the envelopes and frowning. "Oh… guess you're staying, Markham. They're splitting the teams so we don't lose everyone at once." 

Jamie's heart raced. _Leaving_? They were taking Adam? He felt panic welling in his throat, the thought of being here, in the middle of the Antarctic while Adam was sent off to some distant, _dangerous_ place was horrifying. He couldn't just – they couldn't - ! But the fact was, they could and neither of them had any way of preventing it; certainly not without raising suspicions.

He made himself nod in acknowledgement and gazed unblinkingly at his plate, rather than catch anyone's eye.

Across the table, Adam opened the envelope and pulled out the notification within. "Woah. Monday. Short notice," he said flatly, and Jamie felt his ankle being kicked under the table. "Are you sure they can manage here without us for a whole _week_?"

 

Jamie raised his eyes to see Adam was grinning, hesitating to double check before he allowed relief to overcome him.

"They're sending the rest of you out as soon as we get back," Ford told him, confidentially. "Trying to get the whole lot done soon as, because there might be, uh… progress, in a little while." 

"Progress?" Adam echoed, looking at him warily.

Ford winked and nodded before patting them simultaneously on the shoulder and saying, "Anyways, I need to go break the good news to everyone else." He weaved his way through the tables towards the other squad and left them to it. 

They sat for a moment and Jamie poked at his food, calculating the time that this meant they would be apart. He was twenty-seven in eleven days. Slap in the middle of Adam's leave. Great. 

"It's not long," Adam offered, pressing his knee against Jamie's under the table. "Not really…"

"Hmm… I know, I just wasn't expecting it right now."

"Wh –" Adam paused mid-word and sighed. "Oh."

"Well, I wasn't expecting a party or anything."

"No, but… I'm sorry. I wish there was something –"

"Don't be. It's fine. You're not going forever." He gave him the warmest smile he dared to in the mess hall, in front of so many people, "I think I can manage without you. Hey – I even get my own room! I won't even _miss_ you. In fact, can you just go? Right now?"

Adam just smiled.

 

He was wrong, though, even if the comment had been made in jest. The moment Adam was gone, he missed him. He tried to ignore the dull, empty feeling in his stomach and socialise with the rest of the squad for a while on the first night, but he ended up feeling out of touch and bored and went to bed. The empty room was just as depressing. It was still depressing six days later, as he packed up the gear he was taking back to Kansas with him. He'd grown embarrassingly attached to both Adam and the rickety bunkbeds that were too narrow to even consider trying to share over night.

He was only leaving for a week, but it felt horribly final. At least he'd get to see Adam the next day, even if it was brief.

Seeing him walk out of the elevator with the others was almost like a scene from a bad movie; he could even imagine the nasal orchestral while of violins in his head, and it made him laugh out loud. He wanted to run up and jump on him, the way he might actually have considered doing to a close friend he wasn't sleeping with. But it would have given the poor guy a nervous breakdown, so he decided not to.

The other marines gave Jamie a nod of acknowledgement and ambled off down the network of tunnels to the billet corridors, leaving them alone on the edge of the laboratory section. Adam walked over to him, slowly, looking around to see if anyone was watching. He stopped a respectable distance away and just said, "Hi."

Jamie heard himself mumble something like, 'Oh God...' and dragged him through the nearest door, bergen and all. He stumbled back against it, pulling Adam close and squeezing the air out of him, stuffing his arms between his back and his bergen, awkwardly.

"I... Well, I missed you, too," Adam told him, smiling as he pulled back and gazed at him, looking slightly confused. Jamie just felt strangely warm all of a sudden, despite the cold and the dark of the artefact archiving room it seemed they had commandeered.

It was such a relief to have Adam here, back on base. He'd been a little afraid that command would change their minds and send the marines they'd taken from Antarctica somewhere else. Not even tell them. Just never have them return. He and Adam had never even exchanged contact addresses (they lived in the same room; what was the point?) so, had that happened, he would probably never have seen him again.

" _God_ , Adam – this place is so boring without you," he gushed, fumbling in his pocket for the contact details he'd meticulously written down to make sure his worst nightmare couldn't come true. There was already another stashed in the top drawer of Adam's bedside cabinet. "I didn't know what to do with myself..."

"Well, I guess I'm about to find out what it's like myself..." He stopped and regarded him for a second, "Are you ready to leave, Jamie? That helicopter is going in fifteen minutes whether you're on it or not. And if you're not –"

"Shh, I know, I know. Just take this." He pressed the neatly folded sheet of notepaper into Adam's hand and closed his fingers over it. "Just in case."

Adam stared at him for a moment before Jamie gave in to himself, and dragged the other marine in for a fevered kiss, knowing he had to make up for a week apart and make the most of the few minutes they had, at the same time. Eventually, they pulled apart just far enough that their lips were no longer touching, but their panted breaths were ghosting on each other's faces.

"Adam – "

"Shh..."

"No, Adam, I needed to tell you I – "

"Oh, young love," an educated, English voice said, dripping with amusement. "It's so terribly sweet."

They both froze and Jamie could almost feel the agonised thumps from Adam's chest, against his own. After several, silent seconds, Adam found the strength to turn and look behind them; they came face to face with a smirking Dr. Grodin. He was a smug bastard, but mostly okay; and yet, Jamie had never known anyone to weald as much power as this with such ease. He had the key to their careers in his hands; right next to the weird, purple-glowing alien contraption. And the smirk had sunk into an easy grin.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," he said, brightly, flashing his dimples and quirking an eyebrow. "I was rather enjoying myself."

Jamie found his voice first, and was mortified by the shrill disgrace it betrayed, "Dr. Grodin – it's... we're not. _This isn't what it looks like_ – "

"Rubbish. I've seen enough of your sort to know that this is _exactly_ what it looks like." He paused for a second to select another device from a nearby shelf. "You're all the same."

"Dr. Grodin – " Adam began, swallowing with obvious difficulty, his voice actually cracking a fraction on the last syllable. He was so terrified that when Jamie moved to take his hand, he didn’t even notice. "Please, you – you're not going to report us - ?"

"Don't be bloody ridiculous," Grodin replied, smirking to himself again. "And encourage the morons who run the show? I really don't think they need it, do you?"

"You... you won't - ? _Really_?" 

Adam seemed to sag in relief, and Jamie reached out to put the other hand on his waist to steady him.

"You _must_ be joking. The only reason I tolerate any of it is because I can't do my job otherwise. If you ask me, you're both mad for being here in the first place." He walked over to them, his arms now full of gadgets. "I'm just glad I'm a 'civilian', is all I can say. Do you mind moving out of the way? And getting the door?"

Hurriedly, they both stepped back and Jamie placed his hand on the doorknob, but paused to add, "And you won't... y'know... _say anything_? To anyone?"

"Well, if I was going to do that I may as well tell _them_ myself!" he replied, sidling out of the door. "We have a _very_ efficient grapevine out here, you know. Not that you'll need one if you aren't a little more selective about where you start mauling one another." He winked and turned away, chirruping, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

And with that, he was gone.

Jamie took a deep breath and collapsed against Adam, who in turn collapsed back against the shelves. It took a few minutes before either of them dared to speak, and when they did, it was Adam, his fingers lacing through the back of Jamie's hair and his mouth close to his ear, whispering, " _No regrets_."


	3. Last Train Home

Last Train Home  
 _To carry home her little soldier_

 

Adam had never enjoyed meeting people's families. Not even his friends' parents, when there was nothing more to worry about than whether they'd think he held his fork funny at dinner. It made him nervous, which made him introvert, which made him seem distant and standoffish, which made people dislike him on sight and because he knew that, it made him even more nervous, which made him introvert to the point of abject terror at making conversation and having quiet little internalised panic attacks that he had become very good at hiding.

He really didn't want to be here, standing awkwardly in the doorway while Jamie was smothered by adoring female family members. He didn't want them to gradually break off and hug him, as well, or have a small child bouncing at his feet and clinging to his leg before he'd even put his things down. But it was what Jamie wanted and it was only fair, considering the fact that he'd volunteered to spend twice as long in Seattle and this was likely to be the last chance he'd ever have to be with them. Seeing his radiantly happy smile made that fact all the more poignant.

Forcing a polite, pleasant smile of his own, he allowed himself to be swept along as they moved into a cavernous kitchen and were sat at a suitably large table and fed on Good Home-Cooked Food while small children climbed all over them both. He answered questions and nodded at stories and pushed himself through the motions because it was making Jamie happy and for now, that was all that mattered.

Later, they excused themselves from the rabble and Jamie took him for a walk down the hill to a lake he said they swam in as children. They sat on the banks for a while, and Jamie regaled him with stories of how happy they had been, until it got dark and his voice lost its excitable edge and all Adam could think of was that he was such an asshole for taking him away from what obviously meant so much to him.

 

_Sumner was standing when Adam walked in and he neither told him to sit nor sat himself the whole time he was there. He just stared at him with the terrifyingly calm, cold eyes that so many officers seemed to have, after a while, and told him that he was being selected to join an expedition team to another galaxy. Just like that. Oh yeah, and it's probably one way, so you'd better go home and say your goodbyes._

_He hadn't even realised he_ had _an option until later. He was just going to live in another galaxy and was expected to accept it. He wasn't even sure he could believe it._

_Telling Jamie was heartbreaking. He'd waited three days, sitting on his secret while hoping that they would be telling him, too, soon after – but there was nothing. Watching his face drain and his jaw set, and then having him walk out of their dorm room without saying another word was enough to make Adam seriously consider going back to Sumner and telling him, "I can't come to the Pegasus Galaxy, and you wouldn't want me there anyway, because I'm gay and I've been having a relationship with one of my subordinates for over a year."_

_When Adam had finally found him, Jamie was sitting on a crate in the barely-used armoury, still looking shell-shocked. Adam had opened his mouth to promise that he wouldn't go – that he would find some way to stay on Earth, even if it meant giving it all up. He'd come out, if necessary, face the consequences. Even the absolute worst case scenario was an improvement on never seeing him again; five years was nothing compared to a lifetime._

_As it turned out, he hadn't needed to. Jamie had left their room and immediately gone to Dr. Weir, virtually prostrated himself at her feet begging to go with them. She'd listened impassively to his plea before telling him that on the list of potential team members she had asked Col. Sumner to make, he was number fourteen and they had wanted him on the expedition, anyway. He was special, she'd said, had a genetic variation that few people shared and that, in fact, she should have been begging him to come herself. They were hoping to secure a team of military personnel before they asked those with the ATA, but he would have been approached in time._

_Then she had asked what his real reason was for wanting to go; he'd told her he had nothing to keep him on Earth._

 

Jamie still felt a little weird taking a 'boyfriend' to bed in his parents' house, simply because it was the room he'd grown up in and whenever he was in there he still felt like he was grounded for stealing his cousin's fiancé. They'd swapped the cabin bunk he'd had as a kid into Lucy's room and given him the double from Jerry's as soon as she was old enough to sleep in her own bed. He was pretty glad, because that would have been seriously embarrassing. 

It was also strange seeing Adam in civvies. They'd _had_ them at McMurdo, but never really got to wear them (most people didn't own clothes suited to sub-zero temperatures and once you'd been there a while, the cold seeped in to your bones so you were always frozen). He dressed more casually than Jamie really expected him to. Considering he had half been expecting _argyle_ , the grey and red Adidas t-shirt and worn jeans was actually pretty hot. They made him seem younger; less uptight. But Adam had been in a strange mood all day, and Jamie wasn't sure if getting the clothes off him was going to happen any time soon.

He watched as Adam walked into the room and wandered to the window without saying anything. 

"Adam, y'okay?" he asked quietly, pushing the door closed and moving over to rest his chin on the other man's shoulder, wrapping his arms around him so both of Adam's were pinned above the elbow.

"Sure," Adam replied, nodding vaguely.

"Would you tell me if you weren't?"

"Probably not."

And that right there was the problem with being in a relationship with a marine. They never fucking talked about anything important and they were so well-trained at hiding their feelings it was impossible to even make them if they didn't want to. Jamie was uncomfortably aware that it applied to him just as much as it did Adam, but he wasn't even sure what to do about that any more.

So he squeezed him a little tighter and muttered, "Right."

Adam sighed and pulled Jamie's hands away, gently. "I'm okay," he assured him again, turning around and perching on the windowsill. "I'm just tired and I'm in a strange house with people I don't know..."

"You know me..."

Adam just gave a small laugh and ran his fingers over the red 'Dexy's' motif on Jamie's t-shirt, the most relaxed he'd been all day.

"They like you, you know," Jamie told him, leaning against his knees and resting his wrists over his shoulders.

"Sure."

The sceptical tone in Adam's voice made Jamie want to laugh. "Hey, they're _my_ family. I know. Mom gave you her favourite coffee mug – that's like being handed the keys to the city around here!" He grinned in what he thought was a reassuring manner, and stroked Adam's hair a little, "They're not that scary..."

"I know. They seem nice, I just... When you meet mine you'll get it."

Jamie gazed at him for a few long seconds, watching him fiddle with the strap of his watch, trying to figure out what Adam wasn't telling him. "So you wanna head to bed? It's been a long day and all..." he asked, instead. Maybe tomorrow Adam would be feeling a little more at home.

"It isn't even ten."

"Well, I figure that we could find a way to while away some of that time, huh?"

 

The next morning they were unceremoniously woken by a wild eight year old jumping on them, crying, "Jammy! Adam! Momma's making pancakes!"

Jamie gasped and grabbed at her bundling her up in his arms and setting her on the floor, while Adam turned crimson beside him. "Lucy-Louise what have you been told about knocking?" he asked, trying to sound as serious as possible without sounding annoyed. It was customary for her to come and wake him when he was on leave; she had no idea she'd done anything wrong, except what their mom had told her.

"I'm s'posed to knock when you have company," she said, pulling her best 'don't tell me off because I'm too cute' face. 

" _Right_."

"But I did knock, Jammy! You didn't hear."

"Then wait until someone tells you to come in, you lil' monster," he told her, laughing and swiping at one of her braids. "Go on. Scram."

"Okay," she said innocently, and in the very same breath, "But why isn't Adam sleeping on the guest bed?"

Adam muttered something like, "Oh man..." and pulled his pillow over his head.

"Because Adam is my boyfriend," Jamie told her simply, "Remember how we talked about that when I came home last time?"

Lucy stared back at him with her eyes wide. "Like Stephanie and Bobby?"

"Yeah, just like that," he nodded, tugging on her hair, gently.

"Are you getting married, too? Can I be bridesmaid like Alice and Joanna? Pleeeeeeease? PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE?"

"No, honey, we're not getting married. Now go downstairs and we'll talk about it at the table, okay?"

"'Kay!" she beamed and ran out of the door, before running straight back and singing, "JAMMY AND ADAM UP A TREE – " and darting off down the stairs, giggling.

Jamie laid back onto the bed heavily, and laughed.

"You told her about us," Adam said flatly.

"We don't keep stuff from her..."

"She's eight years old!"

"Honestly, she's fine. Listen to her – she's still singing."

Adam was still bright red as he thumped his pillow on to Jamie's stomach and said, "We'll bolt the door, tonight." 

He couldn't help chuckling at him, as he lay there looking embarrassed and indignant. "Well, okay. If you insist." He rubbed at Adam's hair, which was sticking up slightly straighter than usual and leaned over to kiss him. "Good morning, by the way."

"Yeah, great," Adam muttered, rolling his eyes and smirking before climbing over him to get out of bed and find some clothes. He ducked down mid-way and kissed him back, then carried on as if nothing had happened at all.

Jamie figured that it was probably going to be a good day.

 

After breakfast, Adam was left in the kitchen with Jamie's mom while Jamie went to take a shower. He'd offered to help her with the dishes, but she had refused, telling him that he was a guest so he should just sit down and finish his coffee. So he did, feeling a little awkward, but growing more comfortable the more she spoke to him. She had treated him like one of the family from the moment he stepped through the door – they all had – and now, sitting with her in the kitchen while she gushed about her kids made him long to have had a mom like her. His own couldn't be more different.

"See that picture, right there?" she said, pointing to a large frame filled with trimmed-down images of five different children in various stages of youth. The picture she indicated was of a slightly chubby teenage boy, looking utterly miserable, sitting on the end of the couch next to two beaming girls.

"Is that Jamie?" The kid in the photo was almost unidentifiable as the broad-shouldered marine he'd met at McMurdo; except for his eyes. There was no mistaking those.

"Um-hm. That's my baby boy," she confirmed, drying off her hands. "That was his sixteenth birthday. It was right in the middle of 'Bradleygate', like Joni calls it."

Adam gave a small snort. He'd heard about The Bradley Situation; or, some of it.

"There was a time when I thought we'd be dealing with that forever," she told him, studying the picture herself. "Used to be that every time he came back on leave they'd do their little 'on again/off again' routine and Jammy would be moping around here like a wet weekend until he shipped back out.

"Then, he came home one time, and found Bradley had gone and got himself married and we all thought, 'Lord, please just make it all stop, now – give the child a break', although he was twenty-six years old by then, so not a child at all, really..." she stopped and studied him in a way that made him blush. He wasn't sure where this was going and was pretty sure that Jamie wouldn't have wanted him to know all this, else he would have said something. "And then," she added, squeezing his shoulder, "just about a year ago, he came back from the South Pole and said he'd found you. He's like a different person. He's just glowing like he hasn't done since he was a little boy."

Embarrassed, Adam opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know what to say. He thought of the way Jamie had refused to accept his uncertainty, and wondered if all this had happened because he was on the rebound from the guy who was _apparently_ the love of his life.

"I guess I have a lot to live up to."

She gave him a wry smile and placed a reassuring hand on his cheek, "Sweetheart, don't you think you need to compete with Bradley for one moment! James is a young man who needs to take off his rose-tinted spectacles once in a while, but he's always been strong willed enough to know for himself what he wants. And to get it, if it was there to take. 

"I know he's doing this for you. And I know he's making the best decision he has the choice to make, right now. Jammy just adores you – he didn't stop talking about you all the times he's been back here in this last year, so we all feel like we know you already... and wherever it is they're sending you boys that makes you so sure you won't be coming home, I'm glad to know that he's gonna have you right there with him. And I'm sorry we won't have a chance to get to know you a little better..." She withdrew her hand from his face and pressed her fingers over her mouth, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She turned away, "Oh, would you look at me? It isn't as if he's never been away before. You'd think I'd be used to all this, by now..."

It didn't seem to make a difference if she was; a moment later she let out a sob that made Adam wince and he awkwardly stepped over and hugged her. His family didn't hug. 

He looked up when he heard movement in the hall; Jamie was leaning against the doorframe, caught somewhere between a smile and a sad frown. Adam offered an apologetic smile in return and gently pulled away, mumbling something about going to take his shower.

After that, the rest of the week actually seemed like a holiday.

 

A road trip had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Neither of them had had much opportunity to do it as kids, and they probably wouldn't have time to do it again, so they'd hired a car to make the journey that _could_ have been made in a little more than a day, dragging it out over a week. The traffic back into the city had been insane, and they hadn't bothered to sleep the night before, eager to just get back and escape the hospitality of the North West's motels.

The suspicious glares of the staff had lost their novelty pretty quickly.

_"She's still watching us," Adam hissed as they walked out of the reservations office, heading to the room across the parking lot._

_"Then try not to look like you've got something to be guilty about."_

_"We just rented a double room, Jamie, what are we going to say? 'We thought we'd huddle to conserve body heat'? It's September!"_

_"You know what? I don't care. I'm too wasted to do anything, anyways. I just want to get in there and crash out."_

_Adam gave him an affronted look that made him grin. "I doubt that Col. Sumner would take 'I was wasted so we didn't do anything' as convincing evidence of heterosexuality."_

_"Right. 'Cause Dolly back there has a direct line to the President, like General Slaphead or O'Neill, who'll be just about itching to tell everyone two guys he's never met in his life are shacking up in one of her rooms. I'm sure they all have little slumber parties at those important political conferences and curl their hair and tell each other all about what their grunts have done."_

_"I just can't stand all these people knowing my business, that's all."_

_"Fine, tomorrow, we'll get a twin. It'll be just like being back on base. Y'happy?"_

_"No, 'cause now I'm thinking about places General Hammond could put curlers, and it's not something I ever wanted to consider. Thank you."_

_"My pleasure," Jamie smirked, shutting the motel room door and leaning back against it. "For my next trick, 'Grodin thinks Sheppard is doing' – drum roll – 'DR. MCKAY!'"_

_"Grodin is a sick, sick man. Now get over here."_

 

When they walked into Adam's apartment in Seattle, Jamie had never been more glad to see a decent bed; or a comfortable sofa. They dropped their things in the hall and collapsed onto it, Jamie sprawled against the corner, Adam cross his lap with his face buried in the armrest. Neither of them said anything, and they didn't need to. They just lay there for the next half an hour, drowsing while Jamie's hand smoothed absently at the curve of Adam's spine.

He hadn't realised he was asleep until Adam was waking him up, shaking his shoulder and telling him he'd made dinner.

"You did?" he asked, rubbing at his face in a way he knew made him look 'adorable' (according to just about every woman in his family). "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just a couple of hours. I went down to the store and when I got back you were still curled up like a baby," Adam told him, pinching his cheek lightly and smiling at him in that way that made his eyes look soft and dopey. 

"You should've woke me..."

"I just did," he said, smirking. "Are you hungry now, or do you want to wait until you've woke up a little?" 

"No, now's fine – thank you so much. You didn't have to do this... we could've got take out."

"Don't get excited," Adam shrugged, looking wryly pleased with himself, and walking back out towards the kitchen. "It just came out of a jar, really."

Jamie hauled himself to his feet and followed, his vision still slightly bleary. He hadn't even looked into the kitchen when they first got there, and was amused, rather than surprised, at the immaculate neatness of it all. "So waddya make me?" he asked.

"Just pasta, nothing special. And it's not just for you, either," Adam told him, casting him a little grin. "If it was just for you I would have made you get take out."

After they'd eaten, they settled back on to the sofa wrapped comfortably around each other, talking while the TV filled the room with a pale flickering glow. The sound was turned down almost to mute, and neither of them were paying it any attention. Instead, they spoke in hushed, sleepy tones about leaving and packing and the personal items they were planning to take with them.

Jamie had spent most of the penultimate evening in Kansas uploading his record collection on to the brand new iPod they had bought him as a leaving gift. He was also smuggling in some photographs in his Bergen, some of his sisters and brother with their parents, one of all the younger kids - his cousins and nieces and nephews, of which there always seemed to be hundreds around – and one of the two of them, taken by his grandma, when they weren't looking. They were just sitting on the steps to the front of the house, Adam hugging one of his knees, Jamie reclining with his elbows on the step behind him. The leg that Adam wasn't hugging was draped across his lap, while he leaned back against the support for the porch. They just looked so comfortable; so relaxed. Adam had actually asked him not to bring it, convinced that it was evidence they couldn't refute.

 _"We look_ together, _" he argued, touching the corner and frowning. He'd covered the lower portion of the picture with his hand, so that the physical contact was hidden to see if it changed anything, and frowned more._

_"No one has to see it but us. Or even just me, if it bothers you so much."_

_"You don't know what could happen – how they could search your stuff, Jamie! This is basically_ proof _that we're together!"_

_"Okay, so I don't bring it; then what am I going to do if something happens to you?" Jamie had yelled at him eventually, frustrated and upset at the thought that one day a picture might be all he had left. "I don't want to forget you..."_

 

Now, they had returned to the discussion they had been having before, and Jamie was calmly trying to explain why he wanted to take the picture with him while Adam had a neurotic fit about being found out and tried to hide it. To pretty much everyone else, Adam's tone would have appeared bored; weary of explaining himself, maybe. To Jamie he may as well have had flashing lights above his head reading, "Scared Out of My Fucking Mind".

In the end, he could see how worked up Adam was trying not to get, and conceded the argument, planning on smuggling it in, anyway. He turned instead to things they'd never had a chance to do before; sex in the living room, making a noise doing so, and actually leaving a hickey – _somewhere it might be seen_. Just because he could. Of course, as soon as Adam realised what it was and how visible it would be, he made him stop and was on the verge of going to make an icepack to put on it.

Jamie actually found it sort of funny. Adam didn't. By the time Jamie hauled him to his feet and made him stand gazing out of the window, Adam was on the verge of declaring the whole world was conspiring to out them so that they would be split up and sent to different corners of the Universe, just to be sure they were apart.

"Look out there," he told him, finally, wrapping both arms around him so he couldn't escape back to the security of the couch. "That's not a military base, Adam. That's Seattle. That's home for you. Right now, we're just civilians; you've got to believe that. You can't be on duty your entire life."

"I know that," he told him, tugging his arms out of Jamie's grip and wrapping them over the top, so their fingers laced. "Back when I met you I was just scared that they'd kick me out and take away my career; _now_..."

"We're going to another galaxy. We don't even know there's a whole city left and we might never be able to get back, so what're they going to do? Keep us in cells forever just to keep us separated? Put us on different shifts? Make us stand in the corner until we're sorry for what we've done?"

"They could stop one of us going."

The immediacy of his response threw Jamie for a second, and he dropped his arms. "You think they'd do that?"

"They need people with the gene, remember? You're indispensable to them."

"And you were the second person Sumner asked! That's got to mean something, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, it probably means I don't give him any crap. I think that'd probably change if he knew about us."

"Then we'll be careful. But it can't mean we live in fear of every tiny thing. If we did that we couldn't be any more than friends."

Adam gave a heavy sigh and shrugged him off. "Why do we do this to ourselves, Jay?"

"Do what?"

"Why do we put ourselves through so much for a career protecting a country that hates us?"

"I don’t know," Jamie sighed clinging to him fiercely, "But I’m not giving you up. I’m not losing you."

Adam squeezed back so hard Jamie was almost winded. “I’m not letting you go either.”

"Good," Jamie smiled. "'Cause you're stuck with me."

"You might feel different when you meet my family..." Adam smiled ruefully.

"Never going to happen."

"We'll see," he laughed weakly and held him tighter.

 

_It was such a great feeling to flop down on to the grass late on a hot summer evening after spending the day playing in the yard with the kids. It was so long since either of them had had the chance to sit down and enjoy being outdoors. They'd walked up to the peak of the hill, where one side fell away in a low ridge, barely eight feet high, and a single tree teetered on the edge. The area immediately beneath it was grassy, just beyond the final field of corn, which was now just about to be harvested and towered high enough it was hard to see anything but the sky straight above as they passed through._

_Jamie settled down on the ground and patted the space beside him, encouraging Adam to join him. He took one of Adam's beers and opened it with his keyring, before handing it back and looking up at the dark blue sky above them._

_"So, which one is it?"_

_Adam blinked at him and followed his gaze for a moment, before turning back to his beer and shrugging, "I don't know."_

_Jamie opened his own bottle and pushed the others to one side, laying back and resting his head on one of his arms. He tried to remember all the constellations he'd learned in training, and gave up when he couldn't decide which star was Sirius. "I wish I knew."_

_"Ask McKay when we get to Colorado," Adam offered, sitting hunched over his knees and fiddling with his shoelace. "He knows everything, apparently."_

_"Are you kidding?! He'd probably want payment in blood."_

_"Or Power Bars."_

_Jamie laughed and pulled at Adam's t-shirt, "Why don't you come down here a little?"_

_Adam seemed to hesitate before shifting and stretching out on his stomach beside him. As an after thought, he shifted a little nearer, so that his arm rested against Jamie's shoulder. "We're really doing this, aren't we?"_

_"Leaving, or hiding up on the ridge drinking like we're not legal yet?"_

_"Leaving."_

_Jamie sighed and smiled at him, "Yeah, we are."_

_"And you're sure this is what you want to do?"_

_"No less than you are."_

_"Good answer. Evasive."_

_"Oh, I can be real smart for a pretty country boy..."_

_Adam smirked and reached out to rub at Jamie's chest affectionately, before staring down the neck of his beer bottle and slipping back to his wistful mood. Jamie wedged his own beer against a tuft of grass out of the way, and rolled over to face him._

_"So, are you pissed at me, or something general?"_

_"It's not that I'm pissed..." Adam sighed and tugged at blades of grass beneath his fingers._

_"What, then? C'mon, Adam, you're worrying me."_

_Adam made a small tutting noise and rested his head on his arms. "I just can't even begin to explain how much it means to me that you would do this when we might never be able to come home."_

_"I'm a marine. I've made a career out of 'I might never come home'. They know that; I know that. And this time, we're just going on some kind of really extreme science camp so I guess there's more chance of us coming home than if I stayed here and they had me shipped back out to the fucking Middle East."_

_"I just don't want you to think that you have to because of me. I couldn't live with the idea of –"_

_"Well, you don't have to. I'm doing this for me. I'm gonna go to another galaxy! How cool is that? I mean – yeah, it's great that I get to go with you, but – "_

_"You're a liar, Sgt. Markham," Adam told him, softly, giving a sad but grateful little smile._

_"Shh. Just play along, okay? 'Cause you're not getting rid of me that easily. I'm coming to Pegasus, end of story."_

_"What if you get there and figure that actually, you're bored of me and you wish you'd never left? What then?"_

_Jamie laughed at him, "Oh sure, 'cause that'll happen!" He stopped laughing when he realised that Adam wasn't. "Hey, will you listen to me? I love my family – they're crazy, but I love them – but you mean everything to me. I want this."_

_Adam shifted and rested his forehead on Jamie's shoulder instead, "You're always such an optimist."_

_"And you worry too much." He slid the arm out from under his head and wrapped both around Adam until he gave in and rested all his weight on him instead. "I guess it's lucky we've got each other to stay somewhere in the middle, huh?"_

_"You just figured that out?"_

_"Did you?"_

_"Fifteen months ago, maybe..."_

_Jamie felt his heart leap. "Really?"_

_"Give or take."_

_"Right. So, is this you doing the whole declaring undying love, thing?" Jamie teased gently, hoping for actual confirmation. Adam just raised his head and looked at him for a moment before flopping on to his back._

_"Look at that," he muttered, instead. "Shooting star."_

_"Cute. Waddya wish for?"_

_"I didn't. It's just a chunk of space debris breaking through the atmosphere."_

_"Then why d'you call it a 'shooting star'?" Jamie asked, laughing at him playfully. "You have no romantic streak at all, do you?"_

_"You're talking to a thirty-year old marine, not a fifteen year old girl."_

_"Good. I'm glad. Because that would be so many kinds of messed up..."_

_He was pleased when Adam laughed and looked over at him, reaching out his hand for him to take. Instead, Jamie crawled nearer and lay back down with his head rested on Adam's chest; then took the hand offered. They lay like that for a long time, comfortable and content, nothing to disturb them or break the peace. It wasn't until he felt himself drifting off a little that Jamie turned over and pulled himself up, level with Adam. The other man blinked at him languidly, and leaned fractionally closer for a kiss._

_"Adam," Jamie murmured, as he broke off and nuzzled into his neck, closing his eyes, "you need to know something." He felt Adam turn his head to look down at him as best he could (imagining the worst, knowing Adam), so Jamie smiled as he said, "This has been the best year of my life."_

_There was a little pause as Adam decided how to respond this. It was so like him to eventually ask, "Because of all those snowmen?"_

 

Sitting down with Adam's family and trying to make conversation was a little like chewing glass. A tense hush of forced civility hung between Adam and his father. Opposite him, Adam's sister, Maggie, chewed on her hair, casting him 'Why did you come here and subject yourself to this?' glances at every subtly cutting comment that passed them by.

He was starting to see what Adam meant about being nervous around his own family, as well as everyone else's. He had thought that the Marine Corps had made Adam into the straight-edge, emotionally constricted guy he'd met at McMurdo; boy had he been wrong.

"By the way, baby," his mother began, putting down her tea neatly, and smiling at him as if she was placating a psychopath, "don't be mad, but I invited Anna to dinner tonight."

He glanced at Adam to see his face had paled and his dark eyes looked flat, the way they did when he was snapping down on his expressions in front of an officer. "You didn't."

"Oh, honey, she has just as much right to say goodbye as we all do."

"You had no right to do that," Adam told her, his voice taking on a steely edge and sounding protractedly controlled. Jamie could practically feel him vibrating with anger on the loveseat beside him.

"She had every right," his father snapped from his chair in the corner, mostly hidden behind a broadsheet. "It's your mother's house."

Adam got to his feet stiffly. "This isn't about whose house this is."

"Sweetie, she still loves you. It'd break her heart if you left without saying goodbye..."

"Again."

Jamie's breath caught in his chest. _What the fuck - ?_

" _Mom_ , please." The frantic pleading in his eyes told Jamie that Adam hadn't wanted any of this to come out; and definitely not like this.

" _You_ married her," his father told him, a slight smugness in his voice as he caught Jamie's eye over his newspaper.

For a moment, the words caused a soft, silent hum in the room; no one moved a muscle until Adam finally turned and stared at his father. And then at Jamie, who stared back at him, confused and hurt and _confused_ and uncomfortable, but mostly really, really confused. And then Adam looked for a moment like he wanted to actually say something – he opened his mouth just a tiny bit, and gazed down at him helplessly – but no words came, and suddenly he had turned and left and the swing-door to the kitchen flapped noisily back and forth to the crash of the front door slamming shut.

Gobsmacked by what he had just heard, waiting for it to settle in and not knowing what would be the politest thing to do, Jamie stayed sitting where he was. His family bitched and fought sometimes, but not like this. Every word was arranged to be as hurtful as possible; clearly, they knew Jamie hadn't known. He still couldn't quite grasp the concept even as he sat there; words still hung in the atmosphere and he found himself wondering if this was why Adam had been so tense for the past couple of weeks.

He was relieved when Maggie finally said, "You should probably go after him," flatly, still chewing on her hair.

He didn't need telling twice.

Walking out on to the street, he was afraid that this had already caused more damage than Adam was capable of forgiving himself. Jamie was angry, in a way – and hurt, because he'd told Adam about Bradley; told him everything about all the trouble he had caused, and yet Adam hadn't told him something as important as this, in return – but he wouldn't allow himself to make anything of it. That would mean Adam's parents had won, and he didn't want that; as much for the sake of his own pride as Adam's.

The street was empty, and although he looked both ways and called his name, there was no sign of him. He had no idea what to do, now. Jamie had never been to Seattle before, and definitely not the suburbs, and he had no idea if there was somewhere Adam would go – somewhere he was familiar with, or which meant something to him - or if he had just gone for a long walk to clear his head. He did know, however, that there was no way that he was going back inside until he had Adam with him, so he took a deep breath and set off down the sidewalk, gazing down driveways and feeling dismally like he was searching for a lost pet.

He had only gone a few metres when he heard someone call his name, and turned back, surprised to see Maggie had chased after him.

"Hey," she said, grabbing his arm with the sleeve of her sweater pulled down over her hand, "Listen, he'll be at the playground. You should go there."

"Playground?"

"There's a park down that way," she told him, gesturing the way he had been headed, "go to the merry-go-round. Never fails."

"Okay, thanks."

"And Jamie?"

He stopped and looked at her; there was a distinct family resemblance around the eyes and mouth.

"Don't let what mom and dad said get to you. He only did it because they wanted him to. Talk to him. He tries, sometimes, but Athy's been so fucked up by mom and dad... Over-looked middle-kid syndrome, y'know?"

Jamie nodded, not sure what to say, other than to ask what 'Athy' meant.

"I'll see you later," she said, finally letting him go, and pushing a chunk of hair back between her teeth.

Jamie just sighed and turned back to go and find Adam.

 

It felt like a little piece of the world had ended; not total Armageddon, because he was still sitting there, watching an otherwise unchanged world revolve idly around him, but enough that things couldn't be the same any more. He'd fucked up. Large style. There had been so many moments when he could have told him – should have done – and he hadn't. He'd buried his head in the sand, and pretended it wasn't important and that soon enough they'd be in Pegasus and there wouldn't be anyone to tell him any different.

He didn't know what would happen, now. He just figured that if, whenever he managed to drag himself back to the house, Jamie was still around, he'd offer to take him home to get his things, and then drop him off at the airport or the train station, or something. At least that way he could get home and not waste his last couple of weeks; or decide not to come to Pegasus period.

But the thought of that was enough to press the heels of his hands into his eyes and try to wish the world away.

He hadn't wanted any of this in the first place, that was what got to him the most. His whole childhood had been one long, hayfevery summer of 'You're not on the sports teams like Peter' and 'You just aren't as creative as Magdalene'. Thirty years old, and now the story was, 'Aren't Peter's children perfect? Aren't they clever? Aren't we lucky to have such a wonderful daughter-in-law?' and 'Tell Maggie how wonderful her new painting is. You can see where all the talent went in this family.'

It had been part of his reason for leaving for the military. He'd grown up fascinated by guns and tanks and warships and the prospect of escaping this continuous need to prove himself to his parents was so appealing. He hadn't realised until he'd come home on leave with good news that he had been saving for weeks – that he had made corporal, after being passed over twice – and his father had immediately countered with, "Maggie had her poem read out in class and Peter's applying for his boss's job", he realised that that was all it had ever been about. Impressing his parents. Maybe if he went and fought for his county – or if the military gave him ranks as proof of his achievements and of his value ... then maybe they'd care. 

Well, so much for that. He'd ended up wondering if death in the field would even register with them, and come to the conclusion that they'd only consider it proof that he was a failure, anyway.

And maybe they were right, because the first good thing that had happened to him for as long as he could remember was about to walk away from him, as well.

He didn't realise Jamie had found him until he sat down on the faded wooden slats beside him. They had been painted in primary colours, years ago, when Adam and Peter were small. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning back against the central axis and just wanting this to be over as quick as possible because it was the hardest thing he'd ever done.

But nothing happened. They sat there in silence almost with their backs to each other, the merry-go-round spinning slowly, for nearly a quarter of an hour before Jamie sighed and asked, "Well?"

Ashamed, Adam felt his chin drop, and leaned forward to rest his head on his drawn-up knees. "I'm sorry," he offered quietly.

He heard Jamie give a long breath and waited for him to speak. When he didn't, Adam decided to bite the bullet and at least give Jamie a way out of the situation. He didn't deserve this.

"Listen... I'll take you back to get your things, you can take a train or something. Go home. I'll see you in Colorado in a couple of weeks, maybe..." He was amazed how casual his voice sounded; all he really wanted to do was bury his face in Jamie's shoulder and beg for forgiveness. He could see him turn to stare at him, out of the corner of his eye, and the soft, 'Sure' felt like a bayonet in the chest. 

And he actually knew what one of those felt like.

Climbing to his feet, he stopped the merry-go-round and held out his hand to help Jamie up. It hurt even more when Jamie took his hand and gazed up at him with such overwhelming sadness and disappointment in his eyes. He wanted to say something – tell him how he felt, that he loved him, that he was sorry and he was stupid and that he had never meant him to find out like this – but the words stuck in his chest, and instead, he untangled Jamie's burning fingers from his own, and turned to walk to the street.

They walked back to the house in silence. Maggie was waiting for them on the steps when they returned, chewing her knitted sleeve, as well as her hair and she must have guessed from the looks on their faces that things hadn't gone well. She stood and demanded, "What's happening?" as they walked up the steps to the porch. "Athy?" 

He cast her a miserable glance, assuming she'd get the message. Behind him, he heard her turn and ask, " _Jamie_?" instead.

All Jamie managed was a weak, "Sorry..."

 

Walking back into the house to the sound of Adam's parents laughing together in the sitting room, made Jamie feel sick. He blamed them for this; and yet, they were laughing and acting as if nothing had changed. He stopped outside the door, his fingers curling into fists, wanting to tell them what complete bastards they both were, but Maggie's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Don't bother," she shrugged, looking exhausted and strained, "It won't change them."

He sighed and nodded, not wanting to speak, lest he should make things worse.

"Are you giving up on him?" Maggie asked, quietly challenging. Her eyes defiant and knowing; daring him to say yes. "Do you have any idea how much he loves you?"

He gazed up the stairs towards the guestroom, the one that had once been Adam's while Peter's was kept almost as a shrine to his teenage self. He thought he had known, even if they had never said it in a year and a half of knowing each other. And yet, here they were.

"He wants me to leave," he said, no one in particular. He couldn't quite believe any of this was happening and what else was there to say? This morning he had woken up the happiest he'd ever been, tangled up with the guy he'd been expecting to spend the rest of his life with, and now it didn't look like they'd be spending the rest of the day together.

"You're crazy," Maggie's voice told him, although he continued staring up towards the room where they had left their over-night stuff. "He doesn't want you to leave. And you don't want to go. Quit playing the martyr and fucking tell him so."

Jamie glanced at her, about to explain, when Adam's leaden footsteps returned and headed down the stairs towards them. Silently, he handed Jamie his bag, and walked out of the still-open door.

"ADAM!" Maggie called after him, sounding furious, but Adam just ignored her and went to get in the car. "Stupid bastard! You just can't help yourself, can you?" she muttered, before turning to glare at Jamie, instead. "You let him fuck this up, and you're a bigger moron than you look."

He walked back down the drive and climbed into the passenger seat of the car without ever answering.

Adam didn't start the engine right away. He just sat staring at the steering wheel with a lost expression on his face until Jamie said, "Why do I feel so guilty when I didn't even -?"

"I know I screwed up, okay?" Adam snapped back, turning the key in the ignition, "Don't make this harder than it already is."

"For who? I'm the one who has to go home and explain this to the family you just met."

"I'm sorry I put your pride on the line," he replied flatly and pulled out on to the street. In the mirror, Jamie could see Maggie sitting down heavily on the front steps. 

"This isn't about my fucking pride, Adam, it's about ruining everything we had planned."

He waited for Adam to at least try to justify it; or say anything, but he just concentrated on driving.

"I don't want to go back the apartment," Jamie told him, as they sat at a junction, waiting to be let out into the traffic. 

"You want me to mail your things back?" 

"No. I want to go some place and work this out, because I don't understand why you're breaking up with me when I'm not the one who just had the fact they've got an ex-wife blown out and I don't even think it's something we need to be acting like this over!"

There was a heavy silence for a few moments, and Jamie knew from the feeling in his stomach that what was coming wasn't going to be something he wanted to hear.

"I don't have an ex-wife," Adam corrected quietly, "I have a wife."

Jamie leaned his head back against the seat and tried to breathe around his contracted chest and the lump in his throat. "Great."

"We're separated, but she still thinks we're going to get back together. So do my parents."

"Right." He watched Adam's knuckles whiten on the wheel.

"Still wanna talk it out?" Adam asked sarcastically.

"I think you owe me an explanation at least. How long ago did you even leave?"

"Nine and a half years."

The words made Jamie blink at the car roof several times in surprise. 

"We hadn't even been married a month."

"What?"

"She was my best pal's sister – I never wanted to do any of it, I just sort of got pressured into marrying her. And it made everyone else happy, so I just didn't argue. And then I woke up the morning after, in the hotel, and I'm in bed with a girl I loved like I love Maggie and all I could think was that I couldn't go to Hell for any amount of sin, now, because I was living it."

Jamie turned his head to gaze at him, still leaning back against the headrest. Adam's voice was so drained and hollow. He sounded so beaten, as if he just couldn't be bothered to even be upset anymore. Tentatively, he reached out and ran his fingers over the nape of Adam's neck.

"Jamie, I'm driving."

"Pull over."

"We're not there, yet."

"I don't care. Pull over. Now."

Sighing, Adam pulled them off the road and into a gravely lay-by, "If you're getting out, walk facing the traffic. Too many people get killed on this road because there are no sidewalks."

"Lucky I'm not getting out, then," Jamie told him, undoing his seatbelt and turning in his seat to face him.

Adam just sat there chewing his lip.

"You _really_ should've just told me."

"I _wanted_ to, but then I found out about what happened before and I just couldn't. 'By the way, Jamie, I was talking to your mom and she said the love of your life married some girl while you were busy getting yourself shot in the Middle East – and guess what! I'm already married! Two for two!' 

"What would you have done?"

"Firstly, _he_ wasn't the love of my life; secondly, you had a year and a half to find a way to tell me, idiot."

Adam closed his eyes and rubbed at is forehead. "I should have."

"Damn right, you should have! I felt like a complete moron sitting there knowing that your mom and dad knew I didn't know and having them think I'm some confused kid being led on by the crazy straight guy!"

"I'm sorry. I'm so, _so_ sorry, Jamie. I tried to warn you... There's a kinda pseudo-conspiracy between my parents, Anna and Casey – that's Carl's widow – they just have this stupid idea that the military gave me some kind of messed up shellshock and that this is all some kind of psychological war wound. The think they can fix me and get me back together with Anna, and then I won't be such an embarrassment."

"And by not getting the divorce, you were trying to convince _yourself_ that you weren’t an embarrassment either?"

Adam dropped his gaze to his lap and took a stuttering breath.

"You're not an embarrassment," Jamie told him softly, reaching out to turn his head towards him, feeling overwhelmed with tenderness and wanting so much just to stop Adam's self-doubt spreading any further. "You're amazing. You're the best fucking marine I've ever met – I mean, you really believe in what you and you love it so much, and you're _good at_ it – and you are one of the kindest, strongest people I've ever known. And I watched my mum nurse my dad through cancer for four years..." He broke off for a moment. He didn't remember his real dad that well, any more. As far he was concerned, Jimmy was his dad because it was Jimmy who helped raise him. "You're also as hot as hell," he told him, grinning slightly, trying to raise a smile from Adam, too.

"You don't have to say that."

"I know I don't, but hey, I'd do you," Jamie joked and was glad when it coaxed a smirk from the other marine. He sighed deeply. "Listen, I am totally pissed that you never told me about Anna, and I could kill your parents for what they tried to do to us, but I am not going anywhere. I told you already, you're stuck with me... Unless you really want me to go."

"I never wanted you to go!"

"That's not how it sounded."

Adam stared at him, looking stunned and a little horrified. "I almost ruined my life again, didn't I?"

"Almost," Jamie nodded, smiling slightly at the look on his face. "Assuming you don't want to go get my things and send me back to Kansas, anymore."

"I never _wanted_ to! I thought – I was trying to make it easier for you..."

Jamie burst out laughing. He couldn't help it, he just laughed and leaned over to drag Adam into a crushing hug, even though the seatbelt was in the way, "You're crazy. _Totally_ crazy."

"I'm sorry, Jay, I'm really, really sorry..." Adam murmured into his shoulder clinging to him like he was about to be snatched away.

"Hey, shh, it's okay – really, it's okay." He pulled back and kissed him, resting their foreheads together. "So, how about we go back to the apartment for a while and then go show your _ex_ -wife – and she's definitely your ex because she's going to have to fight me for you, and I have a gun – show her, and you mom and dad, what sort of 'phase' this is, huh?"

Adam blinked at him for a minute, and then hurriedly started the car up again, as if he expected him to change his mind. Just before they pulled back out onto the road, he hesitated and said, "Wait, there's something else you should know..."

Jamie gazed at him apprehensively; there _couldn't_ be anything else...

Adam gave a little wry smile and said, "My mom's a really, really bad cook."


	4. Kill My Enemies

Kill My Enemies  
 _The only thing that I have..._

 

The thudding of his heart against his ribcage was starting to make Adam breathless. In front of him was the now familiar metal ring they had spent the past eight weeks hopping back and forth through until it actually got a little boring; either side of him stood Aiden Ford and Marc Bates. He hadn't the nerve to find out where Jamie was, but he could feel him somewhere at the back of the room, and it made his frown deepen a little. So much for going through together. Sumner had selected four of the most senior marines to accompany him through the Gate and be the first people to walk into Atlantis. It could have been exciting; should have been an honour. Instead, all he could think was, 'What if something goes wrong? What if we get through and it shuts down, and they can't re-establish a connection? What if Jamie doesn't make it through? What do I do?'

He actually felt sick with nerves by the time Dr. Weir finished her speech. Every word she said felt like someone pointedly twisting a knife in his gut; _'and in light of the adventure we are about to embark on, you are also the bravest'_. Right now, didn't feel so brave at all. And you could dress it up any way you liked, but it still had the potential to be a mass lemming impersonation. Honestly? He kind of wanted to stand there in front of everyone and just say, 'But what if - ?' to a hundred things, and 'Fuck this, I'm going home.' Not that he had a home to go to, any more. His parents had made that clear. 

But as he watched her, standing on the ramp, tearing up just a little bit as she gave them one final chance to pull out, he knew he couldn't do it. For a start there would be the complications of illustrating to Jamie that he should stay, without arousing suspicion; then there would be the looks of the others, being the centre of attention for all those gathered. He hated that. Feeling scrutinised and standing out. At school he had always been the quiet child who did his work, never raised his hand and never got called up to the front of the class for demonstrations. It was better that way; he was never bullied and only had to concentrate on his parents' opinions. The thought of stepping out in front of all these people and showing himself as a coward made it difficult to swallow and his eyes flickered to those around him, checking for suspicion. He almost made the mistake of catching Sumner's cold gaze as he cast it across the room, daring his marines to embarrass the Corps by chickening out, and hurriedly flicked his eyes to Bates, who stood – as he always did – with his jaw set and his expression vaguely pissed. 

Even though she appeared to have offered them a choice, none of them really had one.

Then, all at once, he could hear the claxons sounding as command began the dialling sequence and Sumner was standing before him, expecting them to attach his pack and prepare to move out. Adam's hands shook as he squeezed the clasp into place and he glanced at Ford, wondering if he'd noticed; Ford wasn't even looking at him. He was too busy gazing into the middle distance.

The next few moments, as the Gate ground through the dialling sequence, Adam held his breath. This was it. This was leaving Earth forever, or failing and being re-assigned to fuck-knows-where. Probably on the opposite side of the world to Jamie, just because that was the sort of shitty thing life did to him. 

He almost caught himself praying for a stable wormhole, before remembering that he was talking to a God the TV said hated people like him. It didn't seem likely that he'd help, so he stopped and closed his eyes, concentrating on all the positive, happy moments he and Jamie had shared in the past year and a half. And as the Gate blew out and connected, he grinned along with the rest of them. He could hear Jamie's voice at the back of the room, joking with someone, and it reminded him that there was still a horrible chance that this could go wrong – that he had so much to lose. 

It wasn't what he needed.

As Sumner began to stride towards the ramp, belting out his orders, Adam could feel a lump forming in his throat. He so wanted to turn to Jamie, give him one last look, but he didn't dare. Instead he fixed his eyes on Sumner, wondering if he trusted him to lead them into this and bring them out intact the other side. When Weir spoke, he stole the opportunity to turn in her direction and cast a glance over the amassed scientists and soldiers, seeking Jamie out. His heart leapt as he caught sight of him, standing near one of the boxes of blinky-lights. Jamie subtly raised a hand to wave him off and cast him a little wink that said, 'See you in five'.

Jamie had no idea how much he hoped so. But as he stood next to Fauske and watched Adam slide through the event horizon, his fingers tightened around the strap of the Bergen containing Adam's personal possessions and he realised how utterly ironic it was that the old saying, 'I'll follow you to the ends of the Earth' sprang to mind.

 _To infinity and beyond_ seemed more appropriate.

 

He'd known it. He'd thought as much back in the SGC: _something had to go wrong_. Water was pouring in on them and they were all going to fucking drown. Great. And Sumner had left him leading the military contingent staying on-world, so not only was he going to have to drown, watch Jamie drown and also, let all his friends drown, but he had the joy of feeling responsible, too. McKay was being an asshole, running around and declaring doom and most of the other scientists stood in the control room looking lost and incapable. 

On the other side, Jamie sat on some steps, turning his P90 over and over in his hands. It seemed callous, but reassuring, to at least think that if this happened and they just all drowned under half a mile of ocean, right now, then at least it would be together. 

Adam trotted down the stairs from the gallery and went to sit beside him.

"So, this was brief," he said, trying to offer him a sardonic grin, but feeling his expression contort into a grimace instead. 

"We could still make it," Jamie murmured, still staring at the gun rotating in his hands, but shifting a little to his knee was pressed against Adam's. 

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Sumner will ship us all out to some planet or something. They'll find a way. They _will_."

"I sure hope so. Never planned on dying like this..."

"I don't plan on dying at all."

They looked at each other for a moment and Jamie smiled a little, briefly reaching across to rest a hand on Adam's knee. It didn't seem to matter so much, now. There were so few military personnel around and Adam was still quite sure that they only had a few minutes to say anything about it, anyway... He gently wrapped his fingers around Jamie's, and was glad he had his back to the rest of the room.

 

_  
When they arrived Adam's mother seemed surprised to see them, but quickly plastered on a smile and pretended to be positively delighted that they had come back. She led them through to the garden, where a large table on the patio was surrounded by people – three Jamie recognised, and three he didn't. He could guess, though, that the man must be Adam's brother, Peter; he was taller, darker and broader. He also looked like his wife had dressed him._

_There weren't enough seats at the table (proving they hadn't expected them to return together, in Jamie's opinion) and when she collected one from the kitchen, Adam's mother carefully placed it next to Maggie, instead of beside the other free chair._

_For several seconds, the air crackled with tension, and then Maggie got up and moved to sit in the available chair beside Anna, leaving the two together for Jamie and Adam. At that moment, as their mother made a slight indignant splutter, Jamie decided it was a pity they would be leaving for Pegasus in a couple of weeks, because she would have made the best sister-in-law in the world._

_He also knew from the moment they were introduced that Anna didn't know who he was. She smiled at him politely and shook his hand and he felt guilty for wishing she didn't exist._

_The thing that bothered him the most was that she was actually quite pretty. Nothing obviously special, not at all glamorous, but pretty and neat and exactly the sort of girl he would have expected Adam to choose if he was straight. More obviously suited to him than Jamie himself. Truth be told, there were really only two things that he and Adam had in common. Aside from the USMC and being a pair of shirt-lifting queers, Jamie and Adam were polar opposites. But it worked;_ they _worked._

_Adam's parents made a great show of displaying their affection for her. She called them 'Mom and Dad' the way he'd heard some of his cousins call their in-laws. He'd thought it a little weird in their cases, but this was just insanity._

_"So, why did you come up to Seattle, Jamie?" she asked, inevitably, picking at her food with infuriating delicacy._

_"I asked him to," Adam interjected immediately, looking up from his plate for the first time in at least ten minutes._

_"Oh, I know that, silly!" she laughed, reaching over to pat his hand and receiving a cold look in return that made her smile falter for a moment. "I – I just meant why did you come up here when you know you'll be going away for a long time? Didn't you want to spend it with your family, or anything?"_

_Jamie took a deep breath, trying to think how to word things without it being too much of a shock. "Well, see... I think Adam sort of is my family, now."_

_"That's sweet," she said smiling and taking a sip of rosé, "Carl always used to say how close you boys got in the Marine Corps..."_

_Maggie's voice cut in abruptly and she slammed down her glass, earning a stiff, 'Don't do that, honey' from her mother, "Anna. Okay. Are you seriously this stupid?"_

_Anna blinked at her and opened her mouth, glancing from their parents, to Peter and his wife, to Jamie and finally, to Adam. "I don't understand - ?"_

_"The reason he's here," Maggie began, before Peter cut in:_

_"Maggie, stop. Don't interfere."_

_"Oh, cut the crap Petey – you know as well as I do that this fucking charade they're trying to pull isn't doing anything but fucking things up for both of them!"_

_"Maggie –_ stop _."_

_"No, Peter, it's okay – I would like to know what's going on," Anna said, glancing from Adam to Jamie and back again; and then back to Jamie, her gaze lingering on him until she caught his eye. He could literally see the moment the penny dropped. She gave a small, jagged breath, and murmured, "I see."_

_Maggie rolled her eyes and raised her glass, "Hallelujah."_

_"Maggie, will you quit it?" Adam snapped, finally, tossing his marble-handled fork on to the plate so hard Jamie was surprised it didn't crack. "For once in your goddamn lives just try not to talk about me as if I wasn't there, okay? Just once..."_

_Jamie didn't know where to look, so contented himself with the table, slipping his hand across to rest supportively on Adam's knee, and feeling his father's eyes burning into him accusingly. He didn't let go._

_There was an uncomfortable silence and no one dared to say anything for a long time. Eventually, Adam's mother got to get feet, asking, "Shall I bring out dessert?" and started to clear away half-eaten plates of chicken and salad._

_"Leave it alone!" Adam said so loudly it made Jamie jump, and turn to look at him worriedly. "You started this, mom. You can damn well sit down and deal with it!"_

_"Don't you dare talk to your mother like that, boy," his father growled, almost getting out of his seat himself._

_"Yes. Yes, I fucking will, dad. You just don't understand that I'm not a kid any more, do you? You can't bully me like this – "_

_"Adam, honey – "_

_"Mom, just shut up! I just can't deal with this any more... I'm thirty fucking years old!"_

_"You sure aren't acting like it, son."_

_"Dad, leave him alone," Maggie said, getting to her feet angrily. "Just give him a goddamn break!"_

_"Maggie, I'll deal with this myself, sit down. I know you're trying to help, I_ know that _, but just sit down."_

_Jamie watched as she sat, and realised that Anna was gazing at him, looking as though she was struggling to hold back tears. He had to remind himself that he hadn't just stolen her husband; they were as good as divorced long before he'd even met Adam._

_Beside him, Adam's voice gave a pronounced shake as he ground out, "I'm not the person you think I am, and I'm not the boy you wanted me to be. I'm sorry I could never live up to Pete, I'm really fucking sorry I let you down every fucking time I tried to do something to please you, and I'm really, really sorry you ever talked me in to marrying Anna." He turned his gaze to her for a second, and his voice took on a tone of genuine apology as he realised she was crying. "I'm so sorry..."_

_Jamie took hold of his hand, not caring if it seemed to be rubbing salt in the wound; he couldn't care less about them. It was Adam that mattered._

_"But I can't be sorry about_ this _," he continued, half-glancing down at Jamie. "Jamie and... and the Marine Corps... They've been more of a family to me than you ever even wanted to be. For the first time in my life I'm actually appreciated for who I am and what talents I actually_ have _, instead of being a disappointment because of the ones I don't... It's all I ever wanted from you. Just for once, just to accept me and just – just be p-proud of me..." He stopped as his voice cracked, and drew down the expressionless shutters Jamie knew so well, taking a moment to try to compose himself._

_Before he could, he father had leaned across the table, regarding him with such contempt that Jamie could feel the words coming before they were spoken. "Proud of you? I didn't know those sort of talents were the kind that won you medals in the military, son. What is there to be proud of?"_

_The next thing Jamie knew, Adam's hand was being wrenched out of his and Adam was disappearing into the kitchen for the second time that day. Jamie didn't wait to be told to leave, this time, he just got to his feet, looking them at them in disbelief._

_"Do y'all know what you just did?" he asked them – all of them – because in his opinion, all but Maggie was responsible for this. "Do you have any idea what you just did to him?" But then it occurred to him not only that they didn't, but that they didn't care either. "But why should you know?" he asked, giving a small, incredulous laugh of disgust. "You can't know Adam at all, 'cause if you did, then – " he was so angry and so hurt his words stuck in his throat. "If you knew him at all, then you would be proud. I'm proud of him. I'm totally fucking proud of him – and I just wish I could tell a few more people about that._

_"My family adored him,_ really _adored him. Did you know that?" He gazed at Adam's father, the anger making him nauseous, "I never imagined for one moment that someone like Adam could have been raised by people like you. Especially you. You might wanna have a little talk with your postman, pal, 'cause whoever's genes he's got, they sure as dammit ain't yours! As far as I'm concerned, you can all go to Hell. And unlike you, I do know Adam, and I'm bet my fucking life he's thinking the same goddamn thing, right now."_

_He pushed his chair back under the table and walked toward the door, pausing only to say, "G'bye, Maggie," before he left._

 

A handful of days after arriving in Pegasus, when it turned out the only one who'd bought it was Col. Sumner and they could really begin to set up a domestic routine in the abandoned city, the truth of how hard it would be to keep secrets began to sink in. The first disappointment was when Marc Bates, nominated as head of security for the expedition, appointed a handful of military staff to each residential floor to ensure the safety of the civilian members. Of the three main floors, he assigned Jamie to the top, opposite him and three doors from Ford; and Adam down to the lowest, between Dr. Zelenka and Dr. Biro. His paranoid streak attempted to convince him it was deliberate, but he didn't tell Jamie. Jamie would only smile and call him paranoid, anyway. It was alright for him – he was on a floor with all the cool guys. 

At the SGC they'd bonded with the other marines and made new friends, new comrades. There were really only a handful of them from Antarctica there; Ford, Allett, Smith, Parker, Fauske – Major Sheppard of course – a couple of the guys who had been on the base before them. Most of the rest were drafted in from black ops or were previously on SG teams. Bates was; SG-17. He liked to think that made him an authority on just about everything. It made everyone else think he was a bit of a dick; but mostly, he was right, so they couldn't complain.

Bates was the sort of guy who held the rule book like a bible and usually couldn't see beyond it, even when the situation called for a little deviation. As much as Marc seemed like a reasonably decent guy, Adam knew that he was going to be their biggest threat. And that was what made him suspicious about his motives for locating Jamie so close to him.

 

_They'd actually done it; made it to Pegasus, saved the city (and some peculiar locals), and most of their men. They deserved a party. Of course, the only people getting any champagne were the command section and for some reason that seemed to include Adam; it hadn't quite sunk in that he was now fourth in the chain of command. If he could have slapped his mom and dad in the face with that one he would have loved to. It was something to celebrate; but he gave his tin cup to Jamie as they stood in their quiet corner of the balcony, Jamie interrogating him about what the Wraith planet was like, and complaining that he had been worried sick back in the city._

_They stayed where they were while everyone else crowded round to listen to Weir's little congratulation speech; not far enough away for it to be noticeable, but far enough away that they felt like they were there together, instead of just as part of the group. It was comforting, even a little sexy, to have Jamie leaning on his shoulder in a companionable manner and feeling the warmth radiating from him in the chill night breeze. It reminded him of Kansas, and falling asleep on the ridge, waking to the first rays of daylight and Jamie sprawled across him; and wishing a week could last a lifetime._

_He was about to lean in and whisper something tender to him, a little caught up in the moment, when he raised his eyes and caught Marc's gaze staring back at him. His expression was barely readable, but one of his eyebrows was slightly quirked, his mouth set in a firm, thin line. For a long second or two they both just stared at each other, Adam's strategic mind taking over and forcing him to eventually smile and wave, beckoning to him. Pretending they had nothing to hide._

_Marc just smirked and raised his mug a little in acknowledgement before turning away._

 

Nights on Atlantis rapidly became the worst part. The city was so quiet and felt strangely dead after the hub of the day's activities faded; it was then that company would have been most appreciated by both of them, but there was no subtle way to slip in or out of each other’s quarters. If there was an alert, they had no excuse for not being in their own rooms. Yet by the end of the week of the accident in the puddlejumper, Adam had spent the better part of four whole nights with Jamie, just hoping he'd get a break from the nightmares.

The first time it happened, Adam was walking slowly down a dimly-lit corridor, turning over the day's events in his mind. Most of the base was sleeping peacefully, safe in the knowledge that they were being watched over by a handful of over-tired marines who probably couldn’t shoot straight if their own lives depended on it. The P90 in his hands was held so tightly his palms were starting to ache. Days ago, he had seen a vast black cloud engulf Aiden, here, in this very corridor. 

He stood before the transporter for a moment, pondering his actions and trying to convince himself that he had done all he could; but there was still a low, sick feeling in his stomach that made him question it. 

_Adam walked into the rec room, having been searching for Jamie for the past twenty minutes, and found him sitting on the couch with Ford, in fits of laughter. It made his stomach drop painfully. Ford didn't even share their mess; he was an officer. He and Sheppard had their own rec room all to themselves – why did he need to hang out in theirs?_

_"Heya, Stacks," Jamie said, smiling up at him, his eyes all wide the way he looked when he was about to manipulate him into doing something embarrassing and unmarine-like._

_"Hi," he returned, picking up the book he had left on a side table. "I'll just be... somewhere else."_

_Jamie's expression slumped gradually into something like guilt, as Ford scratched his ear and looked between them uncomfortably. Adam just turned and left._

_In the mess hall, Adam walked in one lunch time to find Ford and Jamie sitting together at a table near the back, throwing fries at each other. If it had been McDonald, the annoying prodigal geologist from 'sorta near the other side of Wichita' and Jamie, it wouldn't have mattered. If it had been the first time that week it might not have mattered, either._

_The first time, he took his tray over, sat down; they greeted him easily and he pushed his dessert on to Jamie's tray without a word. Aiden addressed him as if he'd been there for the whole conversation and grinned as he waved his spoon around, illustrating his story._

_The second time, breakfast before they took a hike out to some planet the Athosians wanted to show them because of its natural orchards, he'd arranged to meet Jamie at the canteen at 0645. By 0647, when he was delayed by Bates stopping him in the corridor to tell him things that he would only tell him again in the briefing, Jamie was already half way though a slice of toast while Ford poured his mug half full of sugar. Adam had tried not to feel put out, but it ruined his mood for the rest of the day._

_Today, Adam took his tray and sat with Allett and Cooper. When Jamie walked over to put his own tray away and spotted Adam sitting with the others, he stood for a moment with his head slightly cocked and his eyebrows slightly pinched up in the middle. Adam felt guilty; but that he'd made his point._

_Two days later, when he stopped by Jamie's room after he got back on-world to find him with his t-shirt in his hand and Ford sitting on the desk, swinging his legs, he took that back._

_"Should I come back later?" he found himself asking, sounding stiff with suppressed anger. Or maybe it was hurt._

_"Nah, you're cool," Ford replied, waving him in and smiling as it was his own room. "Marky-boy's just getting changed to come up for his first flying lesson! Cool, huh?"_

_Jamie pulled his t-shirt over his head and said nothing._

_"Yeah. Cool." He walked out and straight back to his own quarters, desperate for a door to slam. It seemed inconsiderate of the Ancients never to have thought of those._

 

What if he'd subconsciously left Ford to the entity on purpose?

 

As he turned away he heard the familiar click and scrape of the doors opening and immediately whirled around, gun raised and ready to shoot, his heart thumping as if it would burst. He quickly lowered his weapon when he was met with a bedraggled, pale-faced Jamie, barefoot and dressed in nothing but track pants and an old t-shirt. His hair was squashed into strange angles and he had creases on his face from his pillow.

"Adam?"

"Jamie, what are you doing down here? Are you okay?" 

Jamie didn't answer; he reached out and grasped him tightly, burying his face in Adam's neck. He did that mainly when he was shaken up about something; like it was some sort of comfort blanket. Adam held on to him for as long as he dared, before gently pushing him back and looking him over, carefully. The younger man's eyes were wide and glassy; he swallowed with obvious difficulty and Adam immediately moved closer to him again, wanting to offer some comfort, but knowing that any moment Bates or Smith could walk around the corner. When Jamie shook his head and took a shuddering breath, Adam guided him back into the transporter murmuring, "Hey… hey, what’s wrong?" he reached up and stroked a stray lock of hair back from the other man's forehead. "How d'you even know where to find me?"

"Listening in on the radio… I just-" he pressed the heels of both hands into his eyes and leaned in for Adam to embrace him, eventually pressing his face into his shoulder and explaining, "I just needed to see you."

"Why?"

He didn't answer directly, instead he placed a few small kisses on the side of Adam's jaw and asked, "Can you come by my room, later?"

"Well, if I can get there without being seen, sure. Are you gonna tell me what's up?"

"Can you stay?"

"Not all night, but I will for a while."

Jamie nodded. "'I'll wait for you."

As soon as Cooper came to relieve him of his patrol, he slipped into the transporter and travelled across the city to the control tower. He didn't knock on Jamie's door, but slid his hand over the wall panel and stepped inside, making sure it closed and locked behind him. He could make out the shape of Jamie's body, curled up on the bed, breathing slowly and possibly asleep, and he carefully removed his webbing and his boots, then settled down beside him fully clothed. Laying his head on the pillow and tucking an arm across him from behind, Adam frowned as he realised the pillow was damp.

"Jay?" he whispered, placing a soothing kiss on the back of his neck. "Are you crying?"

"No," the other man said, clearing his throat a little, "It's probably just drool."

"Oh. Nice," he teased as Jamie turned over in his arms and buried his face in his neck, clutching him tightly.

"You're… still in your gear…"

"Yeah, I just got here."

"Aren't you going to stay awhile?" Jamie asked, pulling back to look at him dejectedly.

"I can't stay all night."

"Adam – "

"I wish I could, Jamie. You know I do. You also know that I can't… not with Bates across the hall and Ford three down. If something happens, and we're put on alert, they're gonna see me coming out of here and figure out that there's something going on. It's already after 3.30am…" Adam kissed him gently on the forehead as Jamie burrowed back into his neck and started feeling for the zipper on Adam's jacket. "You know I want to be here…"

He felt him nod against his chin and begin to fumble with the jacket, trying to push it out of the way while lifting his regulation black t-shirt, and eventually Adam gave in and pushed Jamie back so he could just remove them himself.

Jamie was watching him, when he looked back. Not in the way he usually did when they were alone like this, but as if he wanted to say something and wasn't sure how to put it. His fingers were fumbling awkwardly with Adam's jacket, now in a ball on his lap.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Us."

Adam's heart skipped, painfully, "Us?" 

"Just… you do know I love you, right?"

He paused, gazing at him until he managed, "I sort of hoped so." It was the truest answer he could give.

Jamie nodded silently, as if accepting this, and instead turned his attention to Adam's belt. After a few moments he added, "'Cause if we'd died today I'd've wanted to know you knew that."

"I knew."

"Good." He leant down to kiss him, then started to pull off his own t-shirt. 

Adam reached out to run his thumb over the scar on Jamie's chest from when he was, in his words, 'shot one time', long before they met. Adam had plenty of his own, including one from a burst appendix at four years old, but at times like this, they reminded him way too much of just how mortal they were. 

"You knew too, right?" he asked, running his fingers lightly over Jamie's dark hair as he shifted to work kisses down the side of Adam's chest.

"Hm?"

"You knew. Didn't you?"

Jamie raised his head for a moment and looked at him as if he was trying to figure him out; "I was counting on it. Or, I would have been if I had time to think about it…"

"Is that what you were so upset about?" Adam asked, half sitting up as realisation dawned. "About what happened in the jumper?"

Jamie gave a tired sigh and pulled away, "I was trying to think of other things."

"You know that wasn't your fault." 

"I just feel bad, Adam. Like there was something I could've done and that next time maybe Dr. McKay won't be there to fix things up… And then I had this really, really bad dream and… Please. I'd just like to make believe it didn't happen, right now."

Adam shifted and sat up, moving closer until he was kneeling in front of him. "Okay," he nodded, running the tips of his fingers over the nape of Jamie's neck because he knew it ticked him, "I'll see what I can do…" 

It was just a few hours later that he climbed out of bed and pulled his gear back on. He had to be back in his own quarters, showered and ready for what promised to be a nightmarish meeting by 0830. Jamie woke as he sat down to lace his boots. He was sleepy and half-coherent, and he sat upright, rubbing at his eyes; then leaned over and buried his face in the back of Adam's shoulder.

"You stayed too long..."

"Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry."

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have fallen asleep." _And you needed me_ , he didn't add, not wanting Jamie to feel as though he was a burden.

"Y'have to go?"

"I can't risk walking out of here later when more people will be up to see me do it."

"And creeping out of my room first thing in the morning doesn't look at all suspicious or anything..."

"Not if nobody sees." He climbed to his feet, out of Jamie's grip, and zipped up his vest.

Behind him, Jamie lay back against the pillow and asked, "So, what are we doing today?"

"I've got a staffing meeting and then we're doing some on-world exploration. There are huge sections of the city we still need to secure."

"I should get up."

"Ya think?"

"Ah, shut up."

"Really, I'm gonna go, Jay," Adam told him, stepping nearer the door and pausing to adjust the strap on his thigh holster. He almost pitched head-first into the door when a stark naked Jamie startled him with a cuddle from behind. 

"Were you actually going to leave here without kissing me goodbye?"

Adam untangled himself and gave him the kiss he wanted; "Are you feeling better, today?"

"Yeah," Jamie said, nodding and giving him an unconvincing grin.

"I love you." Now seemed as good a time as any to say out loud what he'd been thinking for months; since he knew it was reciprocated.

Jamie gazed at him as if he had just told him the Atlantean ocean was a cunningly disguised beer reserve. "You do."

"I do."

"Me too."

Adam made an incredulous noise. "I know you love you. _Everyone_ loves you!"

"You're so jealous..."

"I'm so leaving..."

Jamie laughed and kissed him quickly. "I'll see you in a couple of hours. Get me on your team, okay?"

"You're kidding, right? I'll be sick of the sight of you by the end of the week!"

"But you _looove_ me!"

"It's an easily revocable privilege. Go shower. I'll see you later." He gave him a little shove towards the bathroom and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor still looking over his shoulder and grinning happily.

As he turned back, he felt his face turn instantly crimson.

"Good morning, Sgt. Stackhouse," Bates said, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned in his doorway. "Up early?"

"Yeah," Adam said, feeling his throat tightening. "Yeah, Markham asked me to wake him this morning."

"Let me guess, breakfast in bed?"

"Complete with a single red rose," Adam replied, aiming for deadpan and sliding precariously towards 'ask me, I dare you'.

"You only finished duty a couple of hours ago."

"And I have to be back on for 0830."

"That's over an hour and a half."

"Really?" He looked at his watch. "Damn, I must be running an hour fast. I guess I'll head back to my room for a while." He started to turn towards the transporter and stopped dead when Bates added:

"You do that. I'll check on Markham in a couple of minutes - _if_ that's okay with you, Sergeant. Wouldn't want to tread on your toes, or anything."

Adam turned back and regarded him with a stony gaze. Bates quirked his eyebrow and backed into his room, shaking his head.

 

Adam hadn't even had to ask for Jamie to join his team, Sheppard had assigned him to off-world and told him that 'Markham' would be with him as he carried the ATA. Nikko Yamato, Christian Corrigan, Halling, Adam and Jamie were dubbed, imaginatively, 'Stackhouse's Team' and appointed as the primary anthropological recon squad (or, ‘Go see if anyone here’s invented the wheel, yet’). He'd then assigned Bates to city-based activity, meaning he'd barely get off world.

Jamie had decided then that Sheppard was something close to saintly. 

But as he sat on the bed in the infirmary, Dr. Beckett wrapping up his arm in a plaster cast while his right cheek burned under the thick square of gauze and surgical tape, he wondered if Sheppard had made a terrible mistake. Adam was leaning against the foot of the next bed, looking tense and pale, his arms folded across his chest in a way Jamie couldn't distinguish between pissed and defensive. And Jamie wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Y'okay, son? You're looking a bit pale. Would you like to have a seat and I'll give yeh a glance over when I've finished with Markham, 'ere?"

Jamie glanced across at Adam, staring fixedly at the floor and not showing any signs of having heard. "I don't think a band aid and Tylenol is what he needs, right now, Doc."

"Oh, aye? Well, I'm afraid I've run out of Mammies, so it's Tylenol if you've a bump or Heightmeyer if you've a problem, I'm afraid..." He smiled at them both, and when neither returned it, he frowned and asked, "What on Earth happened to you lads, out there?"

_They were running back towards the gate, Halling's long strides carrying him ahead of the rest of them by some distance, Nikko just ahead of Jamie, who was keeping pace with Christian to make sure he made it back, Adam bringing up their six. Behind them, a whole bunch of natives were firing burning arrows, some riding ugly and whole-heartedly terrifying beasts that looked like a cross between giant wasps and small dragons._

_There hadn't been an opportunity to speak to anyone; they'd made tracks towards the nearest settlement, and suddenly found themselves under attack. So they ran._

_The Gate was in a small copse of trees, surrounded by a stretch of barren, shingled wasteland; difficult to run on and particularly nasty to crash down on. And Jamie did just that, taking most of the skin off his cheek and snapping his arm just above the wrist when some sort of crude missile fell just behind him and Christian. Chris stumbled to his knees and was back on his feet in a second but stopped and turned to check on Jamie when he heard him cursing in pain._

_"GO! I'm okay – GO!" he panted, dragging his good arm underneath himself to try to get up. He was grateful that of all the scientists they'd lucked out and got one of the few sensible ones; Corrigan did exactly as he was told. The next second, there were hands on the shoulders of his vest, hauling him to his feet without really breaking pace. Adam shoved him ahead and made him run, even though his leg was scraped as badly as his face and stung like a bitch._

_It wasn't until they reached the tree line that Jamie realised his breast pocket was torn and empty. He turned in a panic, sure he'd lost the small collection of trinkets he carried with him on missions to remind him of home._

_"Shit – I lost my… my little baggie – I have to… I can’t just leave it – ”_

_Adam gazed at him for a moment, and the look of resignation was terrifying. “Go. Get back to the city. I’ll be right behind you.”_

_“What? You’re not – ”_

_“You need medical attention. Get out of here. And that’s an order, Sergeant.”_

_“But – ”_

_He didn’t even have time to finish before Adam shoved him towards the Gate and sprinted back towards the trough of stones created when Jamie fell. All Jamie could do was watch, there was no way he could shoot a P90 properly and a berretta wouldn’t do much more damage than a blow dart at this distance, but there was no way he was leaving him, even if it meant disobeying a direct order._

_His heart hammered against his rib cage as an arrow bounced off the stones at Adam’s feet, just as he skidded to a stop, reaching down to grab the small pouch from the floor. He took a few seconds to spray the nearest with bullets, and the cry one of the beasts made as it fell from the air, crushing its rider beneath it, made Jamie’s eyes water._

_“Come on, come on…” he muttered to himself, the race back to the cover of the trees taking forever. He just stared in confusion as Adam stopped and raised his P90, pointing it straight at him._

_“DROP!”_

_Jamie dropped. Hard. His arm was squashed beneath him again and the pain squeezed tears beneath his eyelashes. He could hear Adam firing and found himself thinking, distantly, that it was so fucking typical of him to throw himself down_ on top _of a broken arm._

_The sound of feet on gravel was closely followed by more rounds being fired. Lots of them. He rolled over to the sight of a dead native with a large serrated knife, laying on his back, being pumped full of bullets. He was clearly dead, but Adam still stood there, barely moving, but fixedly emptying his magazine into the man's chest._

_"Adam? Adam, you're wasting ammo – stop it."_

_Adam was expressionless, except for the barest quake to his lip, but he stopped firing._

_"Adam?" Jamie tried again, climbing to his feet and clutching his arm. "We need to go, they're still coming..." That seemed to snap Adam out of it, and he immediately bundled Jamie towards the still active gate, not letting him go until they were standing in the control room._

"We just... had a little altercation," Jamie told Beckett, trying to smile and hissing with pain when it pulled at the skin on his face.

"The two o' yous? The rest of your team came back through that bloody gate like a bat out of Hell – I thought yeh'd been set upon."

"We were."

They both looked up as Adam spoke, but he didn't say anything else, just looked as it he was trying to remember whether he'd left the gas on. And then... he just walked out.

Jamie watched him go, and sighed. Something was very, very wrong, right now.

"Something I said?" Beckett asked, concentrating on the cast.

"Nah," Jamie lied, "he just needs a cookie..."

"Is that another one of your military euphemisms for some form of narcotic or other?"

 

"No... he just needs a cookie and a glass of milk and for someone to convince him he's not responsible for the future of the entire Universe..."

"Ah. The Sheppard Complex."

"... And a hug."

"Aye, well, him and just about every other person on this flaming city."

They were quiet for a while, Dr. Beckett neatly working on the cast, Jamie watching the movements of his hands, almost hypnotised. 

"You're close, aren't yeh?"

"Huh?"

"Let's just say it hasn't gone entirely unnoticed that yeh spend, well... a lot of time in each other's company."

"Have people been saying something?" Jamie asked, sounding much sharper and more panicked than was really appropriate. He couldn't keep himself in check quite as much as Adam could. But after today, he was starting to think that Adam bottling things up was far from a virtue.

"Not that I know of. I jes noticed that yeh seem close. I know yeh shared a room at the complex on Antarctica, so you'll have known each other a while..."

Relieved, Jamie nodded and admitted, "Oh. Yeah... I guess we are." He hesitated, wanting so much to just confide in someone, but afraid of anything he said coming back to bite him – or Adam – in the ass. He really missed Joni more than anything, right now. "I think it might take more than a cookie, Doc..."

Dr Beckett raised his eyes and made it clear that he was listening, without saying a word.

"I... I've never seen him like that – not even when his dad said he couldn't be proud of a qu – " he stopped himself mid-sentence as he realised what he was saying. "Never mind."

"Yeh've met his parents?" Beckett asked, smiling, "That's nice."

Jamie kept his mouth shut and looked away. Adam was going to hate him for this.

"Son?" Jamie reluctantly looked back at him. He was so fucked, now. "I'm not military. And I'm a doctor. If there's something you want to say, I'm professionally bound not to breathe a word."

Maybe it was because he was a doctor, or maybe it was just because he was such a nice, genuine guy, but Jamie trusted Beckett. He trusted him enough to softly confess, "I can't tell, Doc."

Beckett took a deep breath. "Oh, aye?"

"Aye. Rules and all..."

" _Stuff_ the rules, son. They're bloody ridiculous anyway, if you ask me."

"But if anyone finds out... D'you know that back home, if they felt like it, we could be locked up for a whole half decade for this? Or they could just throw us out of the corps."

"Yes, I know. But this isn't Earth and Maj. Sheppard's about as likely to do that to you as Rodney is to win a marathon."

"But it's the rules."

"Aye? And how does he plan teh send yous both home?"

"Well, Bates'd make our lives hell, anyway..."

"Bates is an unhappy lad; he's probably jes jealous that you're not as lonely as everyone else around here."

They both stopped as one of the other medical staff walked in and began changing one of the beds at the far end.

"I tell yeh what, you come and help me in my office for a wee while. I could do with an extra pair – " he paused and glanced at Jamie's arm and flashed him a grin, "well, an extra _hand_ at any rate..."

 

Adam was standing in his room, not really doing anything consciously, just standing in the middle of the room thinking, when Sheppard's voice broke the silence through the static of his earpiece, laying discarded on his bed. He absently ignored it for a minute, before realising his CO was talking to him, and scrambled to pick it up.

When Jamie walked in a little while later, Adam didn't even look at him. He was too hurt to really say anything, and he was too exhausted and depressed for an argument anyway.

 

"Adam? Fuck – get back in here!" He could feel Jamie's hand grabbing at him and holding on as if he thought he was going to try to jump off the window ledge he was sitting on. As it happened, he had no intention of doing so, but he was curious as to how long it would take to hit the ground if he fell.

"We didn't all get balconies..." 

"I... guess not...." Jamie replied, looking at him as if he was afraid that Adam was going crazy. "Is everything -?"

"Okay? I dunno; is it?"

"Uh. _What_?"

"Forget it." Adam shrugged his hand off and drew his legs back into the room before hopping down and going over to sit on his bed. Jamie just stood awkwardly where he was, pulling his 'confused and anxious' face. "What did you say to Sheppard?"

Jamie's mouth dropped open and the 'confused and anxious' face morphed abruptly into the 'aw, crap' one. Adam knew it pretty well. Jamie had developed a real bad habit of saying ambiguous things in unfortunate company, lately, so he'd seen it a lot.

"I wanted to get down here and tell you myself... I didn't want you to hear it from them..."

"Telling me before you did it would have been more effective. _Talking to me_ about it, maybe."

"I couldn't, Adam... if I'd told you I couldn't have gone through with it!"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

"Adam..." He moved over and sat on the bed beside him twisting his good arm at a difficult angle to try to turn Adam's face toward him. Adam just gave a heavy sigh and pushed his hand away gently. "Oh, c'mon, Adam... don't do this. You _know_ that I had to leave the team after this. It's too risky. I can't leave you behind and you... well, you're all out to risk your ass to save a coupla pieces of tat I took from home. It's a bad, bad mix."

"Talking of the 'tat from home' – you swore you wouldn't bring that photo. You promised me, Jamie."

"I didn't promise! Not... It _wasn't_ a promise."

" _'Okay, if it bothers you that much, I won't bring it'_ isn't a promise?"

"I'm sorry... I only brought it 'cause I wanted to make sure I had something... Adam, you know how I feel about this! I couldn't get stuck with nothing if... I told you how I feel." 

"And so did I."

"Oh, c'mon! You can't expect me not to want to keep something –"

"Jamie, what part of 'we get found out and they're going to split us up' don't you get? You carry on like this and that goddamn picture really _is_ all you're gonna have!"

Jamie faltered, fumbling over his words, "What... is that a warning or... a threat?"

"You don't even want to push that issue, right now. You really don't."

"Because I brought along a _picture_?"

Adam didn't even dignify that particular question with an answer, he just cast Jamie a pointed look and shook his head.

"Y'know... Dr. Beckett says he doesn't think Maj. Sheppard would do anything..."

It took a few seconds for that comment to fully register in Adam's mind. And then the panic, and the absurdity of it, hit him like a freight train. "You told Beckett? You told the _Chief Medical Officer_? Fuck, Jamie - that's as fucking good as just walking up and telling command youself!"

"It's a matter of patient confidentiality."

"It'll go on your profile, right there with the fucking broken arm!"

"No – it was off the record. He told me that himself! I didn't even have to ask!"

If he hadn't already been sitting, Adam would have collapsed onto the nearest chair; instead he just dropped his head into his hands. "We're so screwed."

"Adam – "

"Okay, just don't. Don't even speak to me."

"The silent treatment isn't going to work on me, Adam. You couldn't avoid me around here, even if you wanted to. And you don't. You just want to sit around feeling like they're going to put you in front of the firing squad so you can do what your parents can't any more."

It didn't take the feel of a sucker-punch to the stomach to tell Adam exactly how true that was; admitting it was just another matter.

"Adam, seriously... _please_... I don't want this to get ruined 'cause of other people."

"It isn't 'other people' walking around the city telling our business."

"Okay, so _I don't want to ruin this_ , either. I came out here for a reason."

"I was starting to think that didn't matter so much."

When Jamie spoke it was so quiet it seemed strange to hear it in his voice. "What are you talking about?"

"Ford. Your new best buddy."

"Aiden? What does Aiden have to do with this?"

"You tell me."

"Aiden has nothing to do with this! He has nothing to do with this at all – he's my friend. He's supposed to be _our_ friend - like Chris and Marlon and Coops and _Marc_ , for what it's worth. You don't seriously think I'd ever...? That's really kinda... _Aiden_. Really, Adam – _really_ – it ain't happening."

"Whatever you say..."

"Are you serious? You think Aiden...? Worse: you think _me_ and Aiden -! He's like, I mean... I could never, _y'know_... What the hell made you think that – that me and _Aiden_...?"

Jamie's face had the words 'Ew' and 'Oh, hell no' written all over it. So maybe it was just a one-way thing; maybe Adam had made it worse by drawing Jamie's attention to the fact. So why stop there?

"Oh, I dunno... could be the fact I feel like I'm not part of the club when he's around. Or the fact he won't stop touching you – "

"Aiden touches everybody!"

" – or the fact you seem to prefer to spend time in his company more than you do mine, recently. And seeing as you just upped and left the team, I guess you'll have more time to do that, now."

"Adam," Jamie said gently, as if afraid of setting him off, "this is all in your head... There's nothing going on between me and Aiden that isn't completely, _completely_ platonic. I mean, I guess he's a good looking enough guy, but... that's so far beside the point it's crazy. I'm not interested in him. Not even a little bit."

"Well, he's sure as hell got a crush on you."

"You mean, apart from the crush he has on Teyla? That time you walked into the mess and walked out all pissed at me – was that because you thought something was going on? I always wondered... Y'know, I really think I'd need to grow a pair of large ones before he'd even _consider_ that. He's _straight_ , Adam. As a fucking spirit rule."

Adam scowled at his hands. Jamie just about had an answer for anything. But still nothing felt right. Eventually, Jamie slid off the bed to crouch in front of him, the large wad of surgical cotton replaced by a huge square band-aid, his arm wrapped up in a sling. He looked scared and the wincing as he tried to find a position comfortable for his grazed knees made Adam want to wrap his arms around him. But he just couldn't.

"Please don't be pissed with me... I know what's really getting to you, and I did it because I don't want you to get yourself killed. I get that you don't agree, right now, but what'd be the point in saving me if you got yourself killed doing it, huh? I came here to be with you, not to watch you die."

"And I don't want to not be there if you do..."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You can't know that."

"Doesn't matter. Whatever happens, Adam, I'm gonna stick around... do you understand what I'm saying?"

Adam closed his eyes and nodded. It wasn't even worth trying to speak. There wasn't any point in Jamie being 'around' if he couldn't see him, or touch him, or speak to him...

Jamie sighed and murmured, 'okay', reaching out his good arm to wrap it around Adam's neck and pull him close. Adam reached out and crushed him in a hug, burying his face in Jamie's shoulder the way Jamie always did to him. 

"Don't even think about this, Adam."

"A second later and he would have had that knife in your throat...."

"And if one of those guys on the giant bug-lizards would have shot a little higher, you'd have had an arrow in the chest. How do you think I would've felt, watching you go and get yourself killed because I dropped a few stupid bits of sentimental crap?"

The 'sentimental crap' included the picture of them on the steps at his folks' house, a tiny worry doll, two inches high, that Lucy had made him, and a plastic pod from a Kinder Egg, sellotaped shut and filled with mud from the yard on the farm. It had burst in the little canvas pouch when Jamie landed on it, and Adam had spent ten minutes carefully scraping as much of it as he could together on his desk and re-sealing it. Adam had been glad to leave the incessant rain and bitter sea air of Seattle, but Kansas was home to Jamie, and he missed it.

Jamie pushed him away a little and dabbed a kiss to his cheek, "You're goddamn hard work, Adam – you're moody and you're stubborn and you're seriously needy – but I wouldn't quit you for anything. Don't you dare forget that." His eyes were bright and steady as Adam gazed down at him, like he was willing him to believe it. And he wanted to, so very desperately, but there was still the little nagging feeling that something about this was just too good to last. So he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Jamie's, saying nothing. "Adam? You're not going anywhere, either, right?"

Adam shook his head against Jamie's.

"Promise?"

"As much as I can..."

" _Promise_?"

"Promise."

"Good," Jamie said, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. "Do you mind if I get off the floor, now? It really fucking hurts."


	5. Until the End

**Until the End**   
_Or the last thing I see._

Being on separate teams was hard at first. Waking up every day and knowing that he would be stepping away and leaving Jamie on the other side of the galaxy turned his gut to lead every time Adam opened his eyes. It was worse when Jamie was there; he hated acting as if he was just heading off to the office, would be back at six and the greatest danger he'd face was getting caught in a Seattle downpour. 

Gradually, he was beginning to accept that relationships in the military were possibly a bad idea, after all. But it was too late for that, now. And after a while, if he ignored the potential for mortal wounding, being sucked into space, permanently dematerialised or having his – or Jamie's – soul sucked out, the routine was actually a little soothing. He was slowly becoming convinced that yes, when he got back on-world tonight Jamie _would_ be there; they _would_ have dinner with Ford and Christian, and some of the guys; Bates _would_ look at them like he could see through everything and Jamie _would_ make some smartassed comment about it. Because that was what happened nearly every day.

Of course, there were times when things stepped up in tempo a little, became a little fierce and tensions ran high. It was only natural, when you were stuck sharing a mess with people who insisted upon acting like assholes. He and Bates had been clashing more and more frequently, in the past few weeks. Marc knew Jamie's departure from the team had something to do with Adam's inability to emotionally detach in the face of danger, and he was making more and more hints that he knew what was going on between them. 

_Adam hadn't even been in the room, when the conversation began, but when he did walk in, most of the guys were sitting around, talking about home. They staved it off as much as possible, but sometimes it was easy to slip into reminiscing. Adam avoided those conversations like the plague and wasn't comfortable walking into one, either. Not least when it was Bates waxing delusional about how fantastic Earth was and how great and close and perfect his family was. He always wanted to ask him why, if they were so great, he had willingly walked away and come to another galaxy when he might never see them again._

_He'd held his tongue for fear of getting Bates pissed enough that he did something petty._

_Jamie called out to him, as he walked in; he was draped over one of the supposed 'comfortable' chairs sideways, hanging limp so he could see the doorway. Some of the other guys from the on-world security team were hanging out together, Bates apparently regaling them with some anecdote about playing basketball with his kid brother._

_"Hey, Stack!" Jamie grinned, reaching out one of his hands absently, "C'mon in – Marc's telling us another great story about his family."_

_Adam low-fived his hand to cover the mistake and immediately began mentally scanning through applicable excuses for not joining them._

_"Come join us, man!" Cooper agreed, beckoning him in with both hands._

_"Nah – I can't, I have to –"_

_"Yeaaaaah, y'can! He's going to tell us how proud his daddy is of him, next, right Marc?"_

_"Lucky for some," Adam muttered absently, ruffling at his hair and turning to wander back out, as if he'd forgotten something._

_Bates' voice, sharp and level behind him, retorted, "Well, if you didn't give him anything to be ashamed of..."_

_Still hanging over the arm of the chair, Jamie watched Adam become suddenly very still and had a horrible feeling that he was going to get as mad as he had on the planet with the giant bugs. It was a relief when he finally just swung out into the corridor and left them there._

_"Truth hurts..." Bates muttered smugly, as some of the others exchanged looks._

_Jamie sat up and kicked him hard in the arm with a socked foot. "You mean son of a bitch! What's Stack ever done to you?"_

_"Sgt. Markham, you just assaulted a senior NCO."_

_"Oh, shut the fuck up, Marcus. You didn't have to say that."_

_"A little close to home, Sergeant?"_

_"Hell, yeah, it's close to home! Geez... get a fucking clue."_

_"Are you trying to tell me something?" Bates asked, the expression on his face no longer blank, but faintly tense, as if he didn't actually want to hear if he did._

_"Are you asking?" Jamie demanded getting to his feet and standing over him, daring him to push the issue. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Fauske and Cooper sitting up a little straighter in their seats as things got more exciting._

_Marc heaved himself off of the couch and folded his arms, arching his eyebrow challengingly. "You think I should be?"_

_"Well, it ain't your business to. So, no."_

_"Is that right?" Bates asked carefully._

_"Listen, if I wanna look out for my friend I'll do it. He's doesn't deserve your shit."_

_"You know, seems like you've got a little vested interest, there, Sergeant."_

_Jamie lost his temper just a little, and seriously contemplated smacking him in the mouth; but true to form, Bates was right on the nail. Instead he sighed, "It's 'cause I know what a friend is. I don't understand you, Bates. We're all on the same side, ain't we? Not that it's any of your fucking business, but Stack's family cut him off right before we came here. He's got no one to think about going home to, and no one back there wondering if he's okay, 'cept maybe his kid sister. We're the closest thing to family the guy's got and you're really not making it easy on him."_

_Bates seemed to chew this over for a minute, while the others cast each other guilty, uncomfortable glances. "What did he do?" Bates asked eventually, his tone level and suspicious._

_Jamie gazed at him for a minute, sucking his teeth. Bates had a pretty good idea already, Jamie knew that. "That's none of anyone's business, but Adam's," he shrugged._

_"And yours, apparently," Bates added._

_"Yeah," Jamie muttered, giving up and making for the door, "And mine."_

_He was only a few metres down the hall when Bates caught up with him. He scanned the corridor and backed Jamie almost up to a wall. "Listen to me, Sergeant," he said, in a low voice, "You are walking thin ice. I don't want to see the efficiency of my teams jeopardised because some people think they know better than years of established protocol."_

_"The Book isn't always right, Bates," Jamie told him, finding it difficult to look him in the eye. Bates' gaze could be far too piercing._

_"I'm giving you a_ warning, _Jamie – as your pal, as much as your SNCO: this can only go very, very wrong. You are a damn good marine, don't put yourself in this position."_

_"Well, as a 'friend', I'm telling you that you don't know what it is you're saying. And it's none of your business."_

_"Markham," Bates ground out, jabbing him in the shoulder, "If your fucking around affects the team, I will call you on it, and that is a promise."_

_Jamie gathered the courage to actually look him in the eye, and said, as confidently as he could, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."_

 

The latest incident had arisen when Bates questioned Adam's ability to shoot a gun 'with wrists that weak' and nearly earned himself a demonstration of just how capable he was. Adam found himself skulking off and sitting in a tiny room lit only by an even tinier skylight, for a few hours. He brooded over the increasingly threatening insinuations, over the consequences and over how much he'd like to take the butt of his P90 to Bates' face; and realised that he was almost beyond caring. He was _tired_ of caring. Earth seemed so far away, now, so remote. Truth be told, he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. More claustrophobic than he even had in Antarctica. He hadn't had Bates on his back all the time, there; sharing a room with Jamie had spoiled him for the reality of life as a marine – something he'd forgotten until they reached Atlantis. Private time was easy when people expected you to be in a room alone together. So many strangers around them, without any concept of why they were even friends, made it uncomfortable. 

Sometimes he wondered why he still cared. Jamie had been right all along – there was very little Sheppard or Weir could do to them, here. Short of kicking them off on a deserted planet, there were very few places to put them and Weir could never justify that sort of behaviour. What else was there for them to do? They needed every marine and ever scientist they had; especially since they'd lost people, recently. It still felt strange that his patrol rota never crossed with Heller's any more; walking past Parker's quarters and finding the door perpetually closed tight when it had always been open. Would the need of the many ever be able to counter the prejudices of the few? He honestly couldn't tell any more.

 

He walked into the mess hall and skidded his tray onto the table where Jamie sat prodding at his dessert, alone. Neither of them spoke at first. Jamie continued eating with barely a glance in his direction until Adam said, "You didn't wanna sit with the guys?"

"And have _my_ wrists insulted in front of everyone, too? Sure, I did," Jamie replied, "Almost as much as I wanted to be strung up by my nuts and used as a piñata." 

They exchanged smirks and Jamie added, more seriously, "Y'okay?"

"Just dandy," Adam muttered sarcastically, scooping up something oily and brown with orange lumps in and dripping it off the spoon, nauseously. He gave a heavy sigh and pushed his tray to the side, bored of playing with food he had no intention of eating. 

Jamie looked up at him with his head tilted, slightly, and shifted his knee to nudge lightly against Adam's. "I wish you wouldn't let him get to you so much. It's like the Doc said – he's pissed because he can see we're happy."

"Are we?"

Jamie gazed at him for few seconds before digging back into the sugary splodge on his tray. 

Adam's heart sank, guiltily. Now he'd gone and hurt Jamie's feelings in return for Bates screwing with his own. Great. Taking a deep breath, he nudged back at him under the table. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm fine. Really. Look, are you done?"

Jamie looked, torn, at his half-eaten dessert, "Um… sure." He scooped up one last, heaped mouthful, and put the spoon back on his tray. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere."

" _Anywhere?_ "

"Somewhere that isn't your quarters or my quarters or the rec room. I'm going stir-crazy staring at the same walls all the time. I just want to go find someplace different," Adam explained, in a low voice.

"Y'been 'someplace different' all afternoon, Adam..."

"Well, now I'd like to be 'someplace different' with you and do this 'happy' thing you're so keen on. Unless you have any other ideas…"

Jamie stopped abruptly, right beside the stack of used trays, and grabbed his arm with an excited smile. "I _do_."

There was a laugh from behind them and Dr. Grodin gave them a suggestive wink and teased, "Am I invited to the reception?" before sashaying off towards the door.

Jamie's smile turned mischievously guilty. "Come with me." 

As soon as they were in the corridor, and far enough away from the crowded mess hall, Adam pulled him into one of the empty labs and closed the door.

"You're not winning any prizes for subtlety, Sergeant."

"I know, I know – bad Jamie – but listen, why don't we see if Dr. Weir will let us take a jumper out? She said if I wanted to make up some more flying hours I could but she's not going to let me go anywhere without back up, Sheppard's offworld, so we have the perfect excuse for you to come along. And I kinda miss getting off-base, the past couple of months."

"Jamie, you still get sick from nerves when you know you have to fly – "

"Um, 'scuse me – not for two whole times, now!" he insisted, nudging him up to a workstation with a playful shove. "We could set down on the mainland for a while, maybe. That's 'someplace different'... And quiet."

"I should've known there was an ulterior motive."

"Well, it wasn't for pilot's ed," Jamie told him, grinning.

Adam was just about to risk leaning in for a quick kiss, when Dr. Zelenka strolled in, his arms full of gadgets. Instantly they leapt apart and Jamie crashed into the side of a desk, flinching at the clatter of circuit boards collapsing across the worktop. Zelenka cast them an appraising look. 

"Would you like me to return later?" he asked amusedly, before abruptly adding, "Oh! Wait. Is my lab not knock-shop."

Jamie's eyes widened impossibly and Adam felt his cheeks burning. They stood there like guilty school boys, not sure what excuse to use.

Zelenka put down his things on a work surface, regarding them over his glasses and smirking, "Look at your faces! None of my business who you _souložit_ , but you mind my artefacts, please."

 

Adam's chest still ached from the fright of being walked in on in such a potentially dangerous manner. Jamie was in Weir's office asking for permission to take the jumper out, while he pretended to patrol a nearby corridor. It was supposed to appear spontaneous that Jamie suggest Adam.

After ten minutes, he was starting to think that there was a hole in this plan and that Jamie was possibly being interrogated. He was about to turn and walk up to the office to rescue him when he heard Weir's voice crackle into his radio.

"Sgt. Stackhouse, this is Dr. Weir; would you report to my office immediately?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, taking a deep breath and pausing to steady his nerves for a moment before heading to her office. Being summoned did not seem like a good sign.

"Adam," Weir said, smiling at him in what appeared to be a reasonably free and relaxed manner. "Thank you for coming so promptly."

"No problem, Ma'am. How can I help?" He tried not to look at Jamie, standing to one side of the desk, hands folded behind his back in an Ease stance.

"Sergeant, James has requested some additional flight hours while he is off duty to improve his confidence in command of the puddle jumpers. Of course, I am more than happy to grant this as necessary, as I appreciate that the more time our new pilots spend in the air, the more confident and competent they become."

"Yes, Ma'am," Adam nodded. Alright, so it seemed to be going okay.

"I'm sure you understand that I cannot allow Sgt. Markham to leave the base unaccompanied in a craft he is only reasonably comfortable in command of. I have asked James for a choice of companion, and he has requested that you join him."

 

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I would like to appoint you to this duty in an on-going capacity. As Staff Sergeant, you will be in command of the jumper and responsible for your safety at all times. If you have any questions regarding the puddle jumpers, I'm afraid I will have to refer you to Maj. Sheppard when he is back on-world." She smiled her taut, impassive smile and, assuming he was dismissed, Adam automatically came to attention and nodded good day.

"Adam," she said, as he turned away.

"Ma'am?"

"Sgt. Markham, would you leave us for a few moments?"

Jamie cast Adam a surprised glance before drawing himself to attention, nodding, "Yes, Ma'am," and striding quickly out of the office and into the control room, where he made a point of striking up a conversation with one of the technicians.

Tensely, Adam waited to be addressed again.

"Adam, I just wanted a moment to tell you that Maj. Sheppard speaks very highly of you, and I have nothing but faith in your abilities as a leader – " but? – "but I would ask that you are especially accommodating with Sgt. Markham. I'm aware that you had difficulties while he was a member of your team, but those appear to be resolved, now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"James is not a confident pilot, however capable he is becoming. Were circumstances different, I would suggest that he remain grounded; unfortunately, we don't have the liberty of choice. As a natural carrier of the ATA gene, it's important that he develop his skills as much as possible." She paused. "How would you say he is doing?"

Adam blinked for a second, before offering, "He's getting good at turning lights on, Ma'am." He smiled to himself, thinking fondly of the phase when he couldn't actually sleep because every time he dreamed his room turned into a disco. "He likes playing pranks on the rest of the marines; switching the lights on when they're sleeping. I think it's starting to get a little old for some of them, but they'll keep taking it because it's Markham. He and Lt. Ford just have that affect on people, Ma'am." 

Weir smiled at him in an appraising quirk of her lip, and nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps you could encourage him to focus his abilities elsewhere, all the same. We wouldn't want any of our men to find themselves in the infirmary when sleep-deprived comrades reach the end of their patience."

Adam smiled a little, "No, Ma'am, we wouldn't." _Except Bates_.

"Sergeant," Weir began again, glancing at her desk before fixing him with her finest impression of a sincere gaze, "Would I be correct in thinking that you are very close to Sgt. Markham? To... ' _Jamie_ ', I think you all call him."

"Well, yes, Ma'am," Adam nodded, suddenly feeling scrutinized. "Sgt Markham and I have known each other a long time."

"And how do you think he's coping?"

"Better than most, Ma'am."

"And yourself?"

"I'm just fine, thank you, Ma'am." _Except for Bates trying to fuck with my life._

"Good. Maj. Sheppard has spoken of your 'overwhelming' faculty for patience, which leads me to believe that you are the ideal person to undertake this task and that... _Jamie_ may have chosen you because he is aware of this. 

"I look forward to your reports on his progress; if you have any concerns whatsoever, I would ask that you inform myself or Maj. Sheppard immediately. Take care of him, Sergeant."

"Understood, Ma'am. 

"Good," she smiled. The smile was starting to make him uncomfortable. “Have fun.”

 

An hour later, they were cruising towards the mainland in PJ6, Jamie manipulating the controls as if they were a particularly complex stress reliever. Adam had been watching him do it for months, but had generally assumed that piloting the Atlantean craft was just much more complicated that an Earth craft. All the same…

“Y’know, Jay, this might go a little easier if you were gentler with the controls. We aren’t going to get anywhere other than wet if you break them off.”

“Huh?” Jamie said, glancing away from where his eyes were fixed intently on the stat screen, as if afraid that doing so for more than a nano-second would cause them to plummet into the ocean.

“I know you're nervous, but you’re wringing the controls instead of your hands.”

“Oh. Oh… well, they don’t respond so fast.”

“Doesn’t this thing run on some sort of telekinesis, or something?”

“…Yeah.”

“Have you tried _thinking_ the direction you want to go in?”

“Don’t say that! Half the reason I’m so afraid I’ll crash it is that I already thought I was going to crash, and then Maj. Sheppard told me that, and now I’m kinda scared that the jumper will mistake my _fear_ that it'll crash with a… a…”

“Command to crash?”

“Right.”

“Look, if the city has a fail safe – ”

“Can we stop thinking about this now? We’ve already lost two hundred feet. Y'see? That's what thinking does!”

Adam looked at him; his eyes were wide, his knuckles were white and his bottom lip half sucked in between his teeth. He looked fit to have a nervous breakdown. Adam climbed out of his seat and moved over to stand behind him. Lightly, he rested his hands on Jamie's shoulders.

"Okay, relax."

"I can't."

"That's an order, Sergeant," Adam told him, stroking the top of his head tenderly. He felt Jamie sigh resolutely and drop his shoulders. "Just imagine it's a really big SUV. You've been driving almost half your life, right?"

"Tractors, Adam! On _land_."

"Not important. Okay. Look over there," he said, gesturing to the distant mainland, "Can you see the cliff?"

"Yes."

"Don't twist the controls, just think real hard about going over there."

"The right one regulates speed."

"How?"

"Maj. Sheppard said that it needs to be rotated clockwise to increase speed, anti to decrease. But it's sensitive. I have to keep my hands on the controls to let it… sorta read me."

"Okay, so, just keep your right hand steady, 'cause we don’t want to go any faster, and just concentrate on just going over there."

Jamie nodded firmly, once, and breathed deeply. A few moments later, the jumper seemed to begin a shallow arc around towards the mainland. Adam smiled, proudly.

"Oh."

"Is that easier?"

"It's quicker."

"Well, then I guess we might just have time for a break after all."

Jamie tilted his head back to look up at him, grinning mischievously, "Seeing as how I'm so good at this now, maybe we don't need to land, even…"

"The last thing you should be thinking right now is of _anything_ going down, Sergeant." 

Adam smirked as Jamie suddenly jumped and fixed his attention back on the controls. 

"You're cute when you're petrified," he teased, patting his cheek.

"Y'wanna see if you can do any better, smartass?"

"I don't have the gene."

Jamie grinned again, "D'you wanna see if it's catching?"

"Pretty sure I'd've caught it by now."

"Not lately, y'wouldn't."

"I know..."

They hadn't been sleeping together much, recently. When Jamie did stay in Adam's quarters (having decided it was too risky for Adam to stay in his, after the incident with Bates) they mostly just curled up and slept. Jamie's daily activities mainly involved wandering around the city guarding against enemies that weren't there or prodding Zelenka's Ancient gadgets in attempts to make them glow; but tramping across the rest of the galaxy was exhausting for Adam. Sometimes he didn't even know until he woke up in the morning that Jamie had snuck in; he didn't even wake. 

Jamie always said he didn't mind, but Adam didn't think it was entirely true.

"You just don't me attractive anymore, do you?" Jamie teased, pouting playfully. 

"Well, I'd've thought with all that spare time you got hanging around with Bates, you could maybe do a few extra sit ups; you've been slacking on the PT," Adam smirked.

"You _want me_ to get all sweaty with Bates?"

"That is not what I said. Maybe it's about time we took a break to set down someplace."

"Oorah!" Jamie grinned, triumphantly.

"Watch your mouth, Sergeant – that could be Ancient for 'Kill us both now'."

They settled on what looked like a strip of grass between the beach and the trees on the coast, about ten miles along from the Athosian camp. There wasn't a lot of point going to hang out on the mainland if Halling turned up and blew their cover. In fact, they weren't keen on any of the Athosians being around. Or anyone at all. Just for once, it was nice to be away from everyone, together.

Jamie lowered the rear hatch and guided him out on to the ramp it formed. "Someplace different enough for you?" he asked, patting Adam's ass and making his way over to an appealing-looking patch of grass.

Adam followed and settled on the ground beside him. The sound of the sea on the shore and the smell of real flowers and plant life for a moment made it feel like being back on Earth. Without saying anything, he shifted nearer to Jamie's side. They sat in contented silence for a few minutes before Jamie reached over and took Adam's hand; Adam waited to see what he was going to do with it, and was quietly pleased when he did nothing. He just sat, staring out to sea, his fingers wrapped around Adam's.

"I'm glad we came out here," Adam told him, rubbing Jamie's knuckles affectionately with his thumb.

"Well, me too," Jamie smiled. "Shame we didn't do it sooner."

"What?"

"It's a shame we didn't start trying to get away from everything a little sooner. I mean, I feel like things have been tougher'n usual, lately... what with Marc giving you such a hard time and not really getting any time together any more..."

"I guess."

Jamie's voice was a little heavy as he added, "I didn't mean for this to happen, y'know. If I'd figured out that leaving the team would mean I never got to see you – "

"It's not your fault. If you were still on the team we'd both be as tired as each other anyway."

"I know," Jamie sighed, "I just miss you, is all."

"Well, you know where to find me, when I'm on-world."

"So does Marc, though, right? I don't get off on being afraid of being found out, any more. And y'know: that's so the wrong answer. You're _supposed_ to say you miss me too!"

Adam plucked at some of the alien grass they were sitting on, studying the curve of the blade and noticing tiny ridges he didn't remember on the grass in the yard back home. "Do I still need to tell you that stuff?"

"Well, y'know, it would be nice, once in a while... "

"I'll make a note."

Jamie smirked at him side-long and pulled Adam's hand up to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. "Really, Adam," he began more seriously, frowning at the chewed nail on Adam's thumb, "Are y'okay? I mean, you'd tell me if you were really unhappy, wouldn't you?"

Shrugging, Adam admitted, "I don't know. I'm _not_ unhappy, right now. And, y'know... I did some thinking today, and I figure I'm tired."

"Tired?"

"Yeah," Adam nodded. "I'm tired of Bates giving me shit, and I'm tired of waking up in the morning and the first thing on my mind is 'How do we get Jamie out of here without Dr. Zelenka seeing us yet again?' and I'm tired of feeling guilty all the time."

The look on Jamie's face was indecipherable between confusion and anxiety; "So... what are you saying?"

"I guess I'm saying that things need to change."

Jamie sat in silence for several moments, blinking and swallowing a few times. He let Adam's fingers slip out of his grip. "Is this your answer to everything?" he asked, quietly. "'Cause if it is, then you're damn right something has to change."

"What?"

"Well, when you start talking like this it usually means you're going to try to break up with me. Again."

"I'm not 'trying to break up with you again' – _again_? I don't think I've _ever_ tried to break up with you, Jay!" Adam snatched his hand back up and was met with the reproachful gaze of unnaturally expressive eyes. "Really – I'm not. I was going to say pretty much the opposite..."

"Well, they ain't gonna let us get married!" Jamie told him, the worry fading to a small smile.

"Oh sure, let's add bigamy to the things they can lock me up for if we get back to Earth..."

"We're not getting back to Earth..."

"Well, all the more reason for everybody to just accept the way things are, right?"

Jamie gazed at him in wonder, "I don't get it."

Adam gave a slight laugh and realised that he was actually nervous; "I've been thinking, and I think you might be right. Maybe you've been right all along..."

"Are you gonna tell me, or do I have to guess?"

"Well, I think that sometime soon we're going to be found out. Bates... _definitely_ knows, Dr. Grodin knows... Zelenka... we can't keep hiding for much longer and when it happens it could be a real mess. So maybe... Maybe we should do this on our terms..."

"Like what? You mean... you're saying you wanna come out? To everyone? What are you, crazy? You've been chewing me out for not being careful enough the whole time we've been together, and now you want to just tell everyone?"

"I wasn't exactly planning on making an announcement over the base PA, Jamie..."

"But what if _you_ were right? What if they find some way to stop us seeing each other?"

"I don't know. I just know that it'd be hard for them to do it forever." Adam rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm, "If we carry on like this we're either going to wind up hating each other or the whole place is going to turn this into a scandal that makes us look afraid of what we are."

"And if we're not afraid, we've been hiding this _why_?"

"Well, I know I'm afraid of everyone else's attitude. You met my family – if they can act like assholes why shouldn't everyone else?"

"Your family _are_ assholes, that's why."

"And Bates isn't?"

Jamie scratched the back of his neck for a moment, "I just think Marc doesn't understand. I don't think he's a bad person."

"Maybe...Maybe not"

"Listen, if we do this... I mean, what do you want to do? Who do we tell?"

"I was thinking that I should go to Sheppard and Weir and explain."

" _You_ should? I don't get to help?"

"If this goes wrong, I don't want you dragged down with me, okay?"

"Don't y'think that they'll have a damn fine idea already? 'Cause from the look on her face when your name got brought up, I sure think Weir does and it's not like you ever spend time with the rest of the guys, any more. In fact, you avoid most of them..."

Adam thought about this for a minute, realising it was true. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sat with the rest of the squad in their rec room or when he'd last held a conversation with someone that wasn't directly related to the task in hand. Jamie was the only person he spent downtime with and even that had been limited, recently.

"Maybe I should start..."

Jamie nodded and smiled to himself; "I really think so. They do ask about you, y'know. Fauzzy thinks you're cracking up or something. I told him you were just turning into a grumpy oldtimer."

"Thanks..."

"You'd rather I said, 'Yeah, he thinks everyone hates him and is chronically depressed 'cause he misses Earth and his family are a bunch of hateful bastards?'"

"No."

"Well, there you go."

"I just think it's been long enough. If we're going to be stuck here forever, then I need to stop hiding. That was the whole reason I stopped talking to my family in the first place, right?"

"And if it all goes wrong?"

Sighing, Adam shook his head. "No regrets."

They stayed on the beach for the sunset, Jamie laying down with his head pillowed on Adam's lap, waiting for the sky to turn pink and begin to darken before they climbed back into the jumper and made their way home. Nothing had been finalised, but it felt like they'd made progress. Adam would feel the weight on his shoulders lightening just a little, and it was a welcome relief. It might take a day or two, and it might take just hours, but finally something was going to get them out of the oppressive stalemate that hiding everything caused them.

As they landed in the jumper bay and headed toward the tower door, Adam caught Jamie's hand again and pulled him back. 

 

"Jay?"

"Yeah?"

"I know I ought to say it more often, but I _am_ happy. Honestly. You _make me_ happy."

The expression on Jamie's face said enough about how happy that made him. "D'ya still love me?" he prompted, dimples flashing as he pulled Adam nearer and leaned in near enough that their noses almost touched.

"To a humiliating degree," Adam admitted, kissing him quickly and not making much attempt to pull away when Jamie held him fast for a few moments.

"Me too."

Neither of them could have seen Bates, standing in the bay below; but by the time they left, he'd heard more than enough.

 

_Jamie didn't really know what to say when they got back to the apartment. Adam didn't seem about to fall apart, but he didn't really have anything to say, either. They sat down to watch a TV movie, but halfway through Adam simply climbed up from his seat at the end of the couch and shut himself in the bedroom. Jamie knew him well enough to respect his space and let him go, but it didn't make him feel any less frustrated to be shut on the other side of a door. Not when he felt so responsible for what had happened._

_He couldn't keep watching the film; he lost track of it chewing the edge of his nail and listening carefully for the sound of crying. He wasn't even sure why, because if Adam_ was _crying, he'd be totally pissed if Jamie intruded. His pride wouldn't stand for it. But after an hour, Jamie couldn't just sit there doing nothing any longer, and went to check on him._

_He tapped on the door lightly, calling, "Adam, you want me to get you anything?" then waited for a few moments, before tentatively opening it a crack and peering in. Adam sat on the floor beside the bed, his knees drawn up almost to his chest, gazing at the wall opposite._

_"Y'okay?" Jamie asked, leaning against the frame._

_"We should've just stayed in Kansas," Adam told him with a dry laugh, "I shouldn't've bothered telling them I was leaving at all. They probably wouldn't have noticed in the first place."_

_"Maggie would."_

_"Maggie only notices so long as it's an excuse to piss off mom and dad."_

_"She's your little sister, Adam..."_

_"Pete's my big brother; did you see him defending me?"_

_"No, but I saw Maggie. And I never woulda found you in the playground if she hadn't told me where to go. I think she'd've hunted me down and kicked my ass if I'd let you send me back home." He took Adam's laughter as a cue to move over and sit down beside him, almost mimicking the position he was huddled in. "She's on your side, y'know."_

_Adam gazed into his lap for a minute, then shrugged, "Doesn't matter anymore. I just gotta pack up my stuff and then we can leave. We can go back to Kansas for a few days, if you want..."_

_"Uh, no. No, I've said my goodbyes. I can't do it again... And I don't wanna confuse Lu-Lou any more. Momma's told her Jammy won't be coming home. If I show up again, now..."_

_There was a long silence as Adam leaned forward to rest his cheek on arms folded across his knees; looking away from Jamie. Tenderly, Jamie reached out and wrapped an arm around him, lacing his fingers with Adam's and soothing his thumb across his open palm._

_"When I was six," Adam begun tonelessly, several minutes later, "I lost my mom in the mall. It was Christmas, and we were shopping for grandma's gift or something like that; but I got separated, anyway... I had to tell the store detective my name and where I lived and they called the police to take me home in a patrol vehicle. It took them ages to work it out, though, 'cause I had enough problems pronouncing things as it was, but both of my front milk-teeth had just fallen out that week." He gave another small snort of laughter before continuing; "I actually wished they'd never grown back, 'cause I couldn't pronounce my own name 'til I got them fixed when I was in high school. That's why Maggie calls me – "_

_"Athy?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I did kinda wonder..."_

_"Well, for the first fourteen years of my life I walked around telling people my name was 'Atham Thackhowthe'. Then I had to walk around with what looked like torture equipment sticking out of my face... Maggie really thought my name was Atham, and even by the time it was fixed it'd just stuck... I hated people calling me that. It was like they were constantly taking the piss out of me for not being able to speak normally. Used to embarrass Mom something crazy – that's why I think she left me there on purpose. She says that it was because I was always so quiet – mostly because I got sick of being told to speak 'like a big boy', instead of like a baby, and gave up saying much of anything at all; made like she'd forgotten I was with her."_

_Jamie swallowed, thinking of hours spent sitting on his grandma's and his sister's laps as a child, being taught to read aloud. He had never been the sharpest knife in the drawer, but his family always encouraged him. The concept of an unhappy childhood was something he found it incredibly difficult to comprehend, but the more he heard of Adam's the guiltier he felt for being allowed to enjoy his own. It still left him at a loss for what to say._

_"I was just one of those really unfortunate kids... screwy teeth, kinda funny-looking, too scrawny to be on the sports teams... I just thank God that I wasn't a nerd as well. They would've used me for target practise. I was lucky they just didn't notice me in the first place."_

_Jamie's high school years had been fine, mostly. He was on the football team, he was well-liked, if not popular... He had no great aspirations, and he had good enough grades to get him into the county college if he worked hard. It was all he needed. The whole 'getting caught making out with his cousin's fiancé' issue had almost died down by the time he was back in school for fall semester. It was a rumour he could laugh off because people weren't easily convinced that a six-foot football player who was raised on a farm could be a homo. What a crazy idea that was..._

_"I noticed you," he said, eventually twisting at a difficult angle to kiss the top of Adam's head, "I noticed you right away and I couldn't stop thinking about you; so I guess things change..."_

_Adam turned his head to rest the other cheek on his arm, tugging the other arm out to wrap around Jamie's left knee. He was smiling just a little, "You got ditched and your standards dropped."_

_"Lucky for me, huh?"_

_"Lucky for someone," Adam teased, sitting up and leaning back against the bed again. "Listen, Jay... I'm sorry about how screwed up things got today. If I'd had a choice – "_

_"If you'd had a choice you'da been carrying around secrets for the rest of your life. Who needs that?"_

_"Well, sometimes you don't get a choice."_

_"And sometimes you do. And that's done with now. You're married: so what? I've been the other woman before, and half my family didn't stop talking to me, this time. I'd say I made good," Jamie grinned._

_Adam laughed and at last, it sounded genuine. "You're an idiot."_

_"What does that make you?"_

_"Luckiest s.o.b. in the USMC."_

 

It was nearly six when Adam climbed out of Jamie's bed and got dressed. Jamie had insisted that they spent the night in his quarters, seeing as it wouldn't matter for much longer, but it still meant Adam had to leave earlier than usual to get back to his own room.

He crouched beside the bed, running his hand gently over Jamie's head, smoothing his touselled hair, and said softly, "Jay, I'm leaving…"

Jamie rolled over, cracking his eyes open blearily, and reached out with both hands to draw him into a cuddle. Adam wrapped an arm across him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jamie twisted to catch his lips and mumbled contentedly when they pulled away from each other, still holding on to one of Adam's hands.

Adam would have stayed there with him forever, if he could, but duty called. He paused in the doorway just long enough for Jamie to mumble, "Mluv you…"

"I know," Adam replied, and smiled as Jamie buried his face back down into the pillow with a happy little grin.

Hours later, he walked back into his own quarters and dumped his vest on the bed, yawning. He wished Pegasus folk would settle nearer their goddamn Stargates, sometimes. It didn't come as much of a surprise when Jamie appeared out of nowhere and wrapped him in a bear-hug. He'd probably been waiting all day for them to get back on-world so they could go to Weir and Sheppard. He was going to be disappointed, though – Sheppard was still off-world and they had no idea when he would be back, either.

"Undressing already? You could have waited..." Jamie teased, biting his neck playfully.

Adam smiled and was about to tell him that he didn't need help showering when Bates' voice crackled through their headsets.

"All jumper crew to the jumper bay immediately. We have incoming hostiles. I repeat: all puddle jumper crew to the bay immediately. This is not a drill."

They barely had time to mutter 'Shit!' before they were tearing down the corridors at full speed, boots ringing through the halls. They burst into the jumper bay right behind Smitty, to find Bates already in mid-argument with Dr. Beckett, who hadn't even had time to take off his labcoat.

"Markham – you and Smith, jumper one; Stackhouse – you go with Miller."

Jamie cast Adam a frustrated look as he turned to follow Andy, but gave him a reassuring nod as the jumpers carefully manoeuvred themselves out of the bay. Adam's heart was racing in a way it hadn't done for weeks. He'd heard the words a hundred times before, but ' _This is not a drill_ ' was whirring through his head almost painfully. He wasn't an aviator. Neither was Jamie, neither was Beckett. Miller had been into hang gliding a few years ago, but he wasn't a fucking fighter pilot. They were insane to be taking this on.

Miller glanced at him as they swooped into a descent, Marc's panicked voice ringing through the radio, "We'd better prep the missiles for launch, I can't even see anything to shoot at – it could be shielded for all we know – hey, maybe we should – "

He was cut off by a vicious silence that seemed to cut out the sound of his voice, the jumper engines and the radio all in an instant. Adam had looked up just in time to see a violent flash ahead of them; and Jamie's puddlejumper was gone.


	6. Boys Don't Cry

Boys Don't Cry  
 _Watch the fireworks die._

_Dear Adam,_

_Its almost 4.30am Tuesday, October 12th 2004, and earlier today (yesterday, I guess, now) we both nearly died in the event horizon. Your sleeping, right now. I tried to, but I just can't. Ever since we got back I been thinking and I decided that I had to do this or I'll never get in a PJ again._

_I figure if your going thru my stuff, theres a reason (if not – don't be mad at me for doing this & I wont be mad at you for going thru my stuff) and I can't tell you what I know Ill want to say myself. That's why I'm doing this. _

_We should both of figured out a long time ago that this expadition weren't gonna be easy. I guess we were both just trying to hard to make things go our way. Whatever happened & whatever planet were on, were still marines. We still put our asses on the front line every day for the good of our species (how weird is it to say that?). And every time we do, theres a chance were not going to make it home._

_I guess this time I was the one who didn't make it._

_First, I want to say I'm sorry if it was my own fault. I hope it wasn't my flying and I hope I didn't hurt nobody else at the same time. They should never have let me fly huh?_

_Secondly, I know it's selfish but I'm glad your still there to be reading this, because I don't know how I would deal with this myself. Your my family. I don't believe I'll ever see my folks again. If ever you do get back home, I need you to just tell them I loved them, and that I'm sorry._

_Mostly, I need to say that I don't regret coming to the Pegasus Galaxy, whatever happens to me. It was my idea right? I know you & I know that if something went wrong your gonna be driving yourself crazy thinking there was something you could of done. And if it was, by some crazy fluke, something you did – I forgive you. I know that you would never do anything to hurt me purposely. And I know you hate it when I get sappy on you, but even though the time since I met was the craziest, most stressful time because of the secrets, it was also the happiest I can ever remember being. _

_Lastly of all I need you to promise me – cause Ill be watching, I swear – that you won't do nothing stupid. I want you to get the hell out there & carry on. The expadition needs people like you. Your so good at what you do (in so many ways!) and at looking after people and there's so few of us out here, you've got to hold it together. Please. _

_I love you like crazy – but you knew that cause I just told you and it makes me so happy you do to because I thought you did but I wasn't sure – and I want you to be happy. Don't go hanging on to me forever if you can be happy with some one diffrent. My grandma says that when we die we don't go far from the people we care about and I want to believe that – specially if you go first. Hope you believe it too._

_Well, guess that's everything. If you ever get home, stop by and visit my momma's place. Give her and my sisters a kiss for me okay? Don't worry about Jerry or Jimmy, they'll get it. And get in touch with your sister. Please please get in touch with your sister. Moms gonna say your part of ours but you need your own family too._

_I gotta go. Need to sleep while your here or I wont get any!_

_Love always  
J.xx_

 

He barely remembered landing or listening to the debriefing in the control room. He did remember feeling sick and needing to work so hard to merely stay on his feet. And he remembered being confused that he didn't want to cry. But the first time in an hour that he really became aware of where he was, was as the light from the corridor spilled across the floor and over the unmade bed in the middle of Jamie's room. Jamie wasn't a naturally tidy person and no amount of training would make him keep his things in order if no one was checking up on him.

The pillow still had a dent in from where Jamie had lain; the blankets were still pushed back and tangled. There were clothes from the day before on the floor, scattered where they had dropped them – too preoccupied with each other to care. It was as if he had just walked out, would be back any second. It just didn't seem possible that Adam was never going to see him again.

Behind him, the door slid closed. The blinds were still drawn and the room was suddenly dark. Eventually, he allowed his knees to fold, sinking down beside the bed where he had that morning. He knelt there, smoothing at the ripples in the starched standard-issue cloth. It was cold. He'd almost been expecting it to be warm from the weight of a body and the shock formed a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow.

Scrunching his eyes closed, he tried to will himself awake, although deep down he knew it wasn't possible. It wasn't a nightmare, as much as it felt like one. A small and frantic voice inside of him wanted to do something – to go looking for Jamie, even though he knew he couldn't find him – to turn back the clock and refuse to go with Miller, because maybe then he'd have seen the dart approaching or... or at least wouldn't have been left here, alone.

He tried so hard to clamp down on the useless hope that Jamie would just walk in and tell him that there had been a mistake. Jamie was so full of life – so bright and energetic – it was unfathomable that that could have been extinguished in a second. It cut Adam deeply that he hadn't even been paying attention; it made him feel negligent despite the fact there was no way he could have stopped it. All he had seen was the petering plumes of flame and smoke and the tinny hammering of small pieces of debris against the jumper windshield. He had tried not to think what that debris might be, although a hollow awareness haunted him from the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, he felt a desperate need to be close to Jamie – to smell him and touch him and he really, really couldn't anymore – so he stumbled half to his feet and climbed over the bed to the other side, clutching at the nearest item of clothing and pressing it to his lips.

He felt so helpless and weak and so alone and how could this have happened _now_? Why now, when everything was beginning to pan out as they'd so hoped? Why them? Why Jamie? Why his precious, amazing, good-hearted Jamie? Why not Adam himself? Jamie didn't deserve this. He deserved to be there when they found a way home, and to go back to the family that loved him and live a proper life. Not this. What was there left, now? How could he possibly continue living when the only person – the very last thing he had that mattered – was gone forever? It wasn't fair. Not when they'd tried so hard, not when they'd given up so much to be together. Jamie had left everything that meant anything behind for this – and now he was gone. His kind, affectionate Jamie was – was _dead_.

He couldn't see a future; couldn't envision one. Everything seemed to end at this moment, here; surrounded by Jamie but without him, now.

Adam couldn't be sure how long he sat there, but when he realised that he wasn't alone any more, he opened his eyes, blinking at the light from the corridor behind him, and remained as still as he could, hoping that whoever it was would go away. Instead, the door slid shut and he felt a weight shift the mattress as someone sat on the end of the bed. They were silent for a few moments before Bates' voice carefully asked, "Are you okay?"

Adam wanted to say a hundred things and none of them were positive. He wanted to lash out and place the blame at someone's feet and it was Bates who had stopped him getting in the jumper with Jamie. He may as well have blown up the jumper himself. Through all the pain and the anger, it seemed almost deliberate to Adam. Bates had known about them, and hated it. He was probably glad. But Adam didn't dare tell him any of this; not least for the fact that he might start to cry if he tried to speak. So he ignored him.

Bates spoke again. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

Adam turned his face a little further into shadow and struggled to swallow. He wished that Bates would just leave; he wasn't prepared to deal with people. And this was Jamie's space; what right did he have to just walk in?

There was a faint ripping sound and a dark hand appeared near his shoulder, offering the velcro patches from a uniform jacket; "Here."

Staring at the hand, Adam sniffed and squeezed the t-shirt balled against his stomach a little tighter. He didn't understand the point that was being made.

"I guess you guys didn't do that..." Bates muttered, dropping them into Adam's lap instead. "Back at the SGC, some of the... lesser... teams had a kind of understanding. Teams were like families because you never knew if you were coming home again. If you wanted to offer someone your time, off record – superior, subordinate, NCO, officer, didn't matter – you handed over your tapes if you got to wear any, or your pins, or whatever. Basically meant you put yourself on their level. And I don't have anything to offer except those."

There was a long pause.

"Look, Stack – I didn't know. I thought it was just you guys were getting off – guys do it all the time in the field, I know that – and I thought that _you_ ought to know better. You're a sensible guy. I didn't realise you and Jamie... I didn't think it for a minute. Not until he bitched me out over you. And then... I guess being married to your job blinds you."

"You don't know anything about us," Adam ground out, at last, and he could feel a lump pressing at his throat again.

"I _didn't_. And then that guy who makes Lt. Ford look like a badass motherfucker with a chip on his shoulder the size of a goddamn B52, kicked me so hard I had a bruise the size of a grapefruit on my arm for a week. Because of you. And in the middle of the rec room, right in front of most of his team, he as good as admitted he was... 'invested' in you. I even took him aside, tried to tell him what he was doing was fucking dangerous for the sake of an occasional screw – "

"It wasn't – "

"Oh, I know!" Bates assured him with a hollow little laugh. "I know, because I heard you in the hangar, yesterday. You're real discreet."

" _Were_ ," Adam corrected quietly, closing his eyes. He hated that such a private moment – one of his last intimate moments with Jamie – had been violated by somebody else's presence. But it was their own fault; they were careless.

For a few long moments, Bates was quiet. "Jamie was a nice guy. I don't know how the hell a guy like him made it into the Marines, or why... but for what it's worth, I liked him."

"Yeah. Me too." Bates' words burned in Adam's chest, and he had to turn back toward the shadows to hide the quivering of his lip. "Y'know, nothing that you can say is going to make things better and I don't need you to pity me. I need you to leave me alone."

There was a slow sigh, and then the mattress creaked as Bates stood up. "Fine... but I'm going to need to take your sidearm, your handgun and whatever bladed weapons you carry."

"What?"

"Your weapons, Staff Sergeant." Bates stepped up beside him and held out his hand. "It is my opinion that you are in an unsuitable frame of mind to be carrying lethal weapons. I'd also advise you to take a walk down to Dr. Heightmeyer when you're feeling a little better."

It took a lot of effort to accept what Bates was suggesting, although he understood well enough. He turned further away, blinking frantically, as Bates crouched beside him. He finally seemed to notice that Adam was on the verge of tears, and licked his lips uncomfortably.

"Just for a while," he pressed on, his voice taking an awkwardly gentle inflection that made Adam want to laugh despite it all.

"I can't."

"Adam – "

"They're in my quarters. I was going to take a shower when... I – I just don't have them. I don't have anything."

Bates gazed at him, then rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I really am sorry."

" _Please_ ," Adam choked out desperately, humiliated and nauseous with the empty feeling inside of him, "Leave me alone." He couldn't stand the kindness. Not from Marc, of all people.

With another deep sigh, Bates stood up, hesitating for a moment before walking out of the room and leaving Adam to his grief again. 

When he was sure Bates was gone, Adam tugged his legs beneath him and knelt up, pulling the top drawer of the chest beside the bed fully from its rack. Reaching into the empty space, he tugged out the bundle of things Jamie had made sure he knew he'd hidden there, behind an awkward ledge at the back. It was his photos, mostly, but there was a picture Lucy had drawn for him, and a goodbye letter from his mom, too. Adam had never read the letter, even though Jamie had said he could; but sometimes, when Jamie had been reading over it, he'd crawl into Adam's bed and demand to be cuddled until he fell asleep.

 

All the separate items were tied together in an old t-shirt from his high school football days, and Adam unwrapped them reverentially, feeling almost as though he was betraying Jamie's trust to do so. But Jamie wouldn't have made as much effort to ensure he knew where they were if he hadn't wanted to find them, if... _when_...

Adam took a stuttering gulp of air and bit his lip, trying not to start crying. Instead, he reached for the lamp on top of the chest of drawers and pressed the surface to turn it on. There was a rattling _clink_ as he drew his arm away, and there, puddled on the floor, were Jamie's tags. They seemed so cold when he picked them up – almost frosted – and he couldn't believe that it had been less than a day since he had accidentally snapped the chain as his fingers caught in it in the heat of the moment.

His mouth seemed torn between a shaking bottom lip and a small, sad smile. It reminded him of being in Seattle – the night Jamie had told him he couldn't be a marine all the time. Jamie had been kneeling over him, all kisses and fingers and heavy breaths, and he'd studied Adam's tags as if he'd never seen them before. ' _Take them off_ ,' he'd ordered, pulling Adam's hand up to close around them, ' _Show me you believe what I said_.'

But Adam hadn't; believed him _or_ taken the tags off. He'd refused, telling him it was stupid, and that he wasn't in the mood for playing games, and Jamie had stared at him – his eyes looked translucent green in the glow of the street light through the window, Adam could never forget that – and carefully, he had twined his fingers in the ball-chain and yanked it so it snapped. ' _I'm not sharing you with Uncle Sam right now, Adam,_ ' Jamie had said, leaning over and dropping them to the floor. He'd sounded so sincere.

When it started to get light, while Jamie was still asleep, he'd scrambled around for them on the parquet and fixed the chain. The next day, Jamie pretended not to notice.

In the silence of Jamie's quarters, Adam unhooked the smaller loop of chain, and reattached it around his own tags, then carefully placed the rest on the t-shirt. His hand moved to the thin stack of photographs – Jamie's mother, his sisters, the kids... a snap of he and Adam in arctic gear against a snowy backdrop, from McMurdo, Jamie squinting against the sun while Adam's eyes were shielded by snowglasses; one – to Adam's alarm – of Adam himself against pale blue cotton pillows, sucking his knuckles in his sleep, and for a moment he thought, 'I'll kill him!'.

It felt like a punch to the stomach.

Pushing the pictures away, unable to bring himself to look at them any more, he discovered a sheet of paper, folded in quarters, with his name printed on it in large capital letters. It was Jamie's handwriting; he'd have known that, even if there had been a chance that someone would leave him a note tucked away at the back of Jamie's furniture. 

His hands were shaking, he realised, as he tried to unfold the sheet and make sense of the awkward scrawl upon it. The lump formed in his throat again as soon as he realised what Jamie had done. It was a farewell letter; a letter Jamie had written weeks – months – ago, the same night he had appeared in the corridor, dishevelled and shaken and begged Adam to come to his room and comfort him. 

_I guess this time I was the one who didn't make it... I'm sorry... should never have let me fly... just tell them I loved them, and that I'm sorry... I don't regret coming... I forgive you... you hate it when I get sappy on you... carry on... I love you like crazy... we don't go far from the people we care about... stop by and visit my momma's place... get in touch with your sister... you need your own family... love always... J.xx_

It was too much to take in all at once. Jamie's pleas for him to get in touch his family – horrified at the idea that Adam might be alone – the very idea of... of _ever_ finding anyone who could replace Jamie made Adam feel sick. How could he think for a second that Adam could ever be happy with someone who _wasn't_ Jamie? It just didn't seem possible. It _wasn't_ possible.

It was so painfully clear that this letter – these few peculiar possessions – were all he had of Jamie. He wished and wished for the picture of them on the porch steps, desperate for something convince him that he hadn't dreamed how happy they had been. But that must have been in Jamie's pocket, and he stood as much chance of seeing that again as he did of ever seeing Jamie.

He stayed there for hours, although it felt longer. It felt like an eternity. He was huddled in the corner between the bed and the chest of drawers when the alarm on his watch bleeped six o'clock. He should be up. He had duty. They were off-world, today. 

It was almost as if he was on autopilot, scooping up Jamie's treasured bundle and wrapping it up to take with him. He paused at the door to give the room one last glance before closing it and making his way down to his quarters. Not many people were up at that time of morning, so the only person he passed was Biro, who squinted from behind her glasses and looked as though she was about to say something awkward. He ducked into his room without acknowledging her.

He felt numb and hollow, but he could still sense that someone had been there before him. The absence of his P90 and his Berretta confirmed it. Bates had taken them, just as he said he would. 

Sighing, Adam peeled off his clothes and hauled himself into the shower, dazed by the sudden hot water on his stiff limbs. He hadn't moved for such a long time they had almost seized up. For a few minutes he just stood, staring at the white tiles as water trickled over his head and dripped from his eyelashes, trying to attach some sense, something more than numbness, to the knowledge that when he walked back on world that evening, there would be no one waiting for him. No one to tell him what a jerk Bates had been, or hound him to go to Weir and Sheppard and explain what was going on between them. There would be no one to sneak into his room in the middle of the night or petulantly demand affection for the sake of it. No one who would miss him or be particularly concerned if they were held up on the mission and didn't make it back on schedule.

Adam wondered what he would achieve by attempting anything other than to just sit and wait for his turn. As he raised his hands to push the wet hair back from his forehead and found himself gazing at the soft skin on the inside of his wrists. 

_I need you to promise me – cause Ill be watching, I swear – that you won't do nothing stupid... you've got to hold it together. Please._

He took a deep, sharp breath and turned off the water. He'd be late, if he wasn't careful.

 

Walking into the mess hall almost made his hackles rise. There were _people_ there. Dieter Fauske almost jumped out of his seat to speak to him, and half of the room seemed to turn and stare at him. Swallowing the panic that rose in his chest as he realised they all knew, trying not to feel their eyes burning into his back, he made his way to the counter to collect his tray. He gazed at the spread and realised that there was nothing there he thought he could eat without throwing it back up straight away. It seemed strange – inappropriate – to carry on like this, to go about the usual things like sitting down for breakfast with the rest of the team, when Jamie never would again.

Slowly, he turned to gaze at them all, just as Fauske reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. 

"Come and sit with the guys."

Adam stared at him, not quite sure what the other marine had just said, for a moment. "No... no, I'm not hungry."

"Hey – Toto and Smitty were our guys, too. We already lost Parker – there's only three of us left from McMurdo, now. We need stick together, Stack."

All Adam could do was look down at the empty tray in his hands. Andy hadn't even crossed his mind.

"Listen: we all get it, okay? You and Jamie – you're... good friends. _Very_ good friends. You liked him better than you like the rest of us. You go way back. Sure. Just don't go cutting yourself up over this, because when they call in your ticket, it's time to go. None of us could have changed what happened."

"You weren't there."

"I was there a couple of weeks ago when he chewed out the Master for being an asshole to you. Close: sure. You saw them get taken down: sure. But I _know_ you've seen your guys bite it before, Stack – c'mon. Suck it up – get your ass to that table. Now."

"Fauz, you're my subordinate – "

"No, shit for brains, I'm your friend. Now go." Fauske pulled the tray out of his hands and tossed a couple of pieces of toast and some juice on to it, then pushed him towards the table where the others were sitting.

Adam slipped onto the end of the bench beside Williams and nodded stiffly at the others as they mumbled greetings and covert sympathies. Here, amongst so many of the others, Jamie was even more conspicuous by his absence. He'd grown to be Adam's security blanket in social situations, and now Adam had lost the knack of dealing with them by himself. 

He was drawn out of his contemplation by a loud crackle of static that had most of the room clamping their hands over their ears. For a moment there was a snap of Czech, a little more static, and then the noise stopped again abruptly.

"They're working on the radio systems," Cooper complained, "every few minutes they fuck up and one room or other gets blasted over the tanoy. I can't escape it – it's driving me nuts."

"You won't be saying that when the fucking Wraith come knocking and you're crying for help," Benson noted, to a round of laughter that stopped abruptly when Fauske pointedly cleared his throat. 

There was another short burst of static that made them all wince.

"So, um... Stack, are we going to be seeing a little more of you, now?"

Adam turned his gaze from the toast idly rotating in his hand, to the red-headed Texan beside him.

"I mean, now you don't have no one to run off and play favourites with: you going to join the squad again?"

Adam's heart pounded in his chest, assuming that Bates had told them what he knew. He waited for a moment for the taunts, for the callous comments about 'God' having his way, but they didn't come. Instead, Williams elaborated, "Markham never stopped being one of us. We've been starting to forget what you look like, though, Stack. I know the guy was pretty, but d'you really get sick of the sight of the rest of us so easily?"

One or two of the others chuckled and someone's boot collided with Adam's shin on it's way to Williams'.

"What?!" Williams asked indignantly. "I was kidding! I wasn't actually calling him a que –"

"Quit digging, Billy," Fauzzy warned, patting at his arm and giving him a significant look. Adam was already half out of his seat, though.

"Stack – I'm sorry, buddy, I didn't mean to piss you off –"

"C'mon, Stacks – "

Adam abandoned his tray and headed for the door, ignoring their calls. There was a sudden deafening crackle of static and Dr. Weir's voice boomed over the room for a moment.

"- ragic circumstances."

Dr. Beckett's voice followed, echoing so loudly it hurt, "Aye... aye. That poor lad was so completely smitten – worshipped the ground Adam walked on. I'd hate to think where we'd be if things had been the other way around."

 _The other way around?_ Worse than hearing Jamie's secrets blurted over the city so unceremoniously, they thought Adam didn't care?

"I hardly think the situation would be any better if roles were switched," Bates' voice replied coldly. "It is my opinion that, in actual fact, we are looking at the worst outcome that this situation could have brought. We could be looking at - "

There was a long moment of static and Adam kept walking. There was a deathly silence in the mess hall behind him.

"- leader of one of our teams as well as two well-liked members of our community."

"Oh no, son – that wasn't what I meant. I know for a fact that the affection was quite mutu – "

"Dr. Weir! Carson!" Zelenka's voice intruded, blasting over the tanoy in a panic. "Please be aware that we are experiencing small problem. You are presently speaking to whole of Atlantis."

For one dreadful second, the entire base fell silent. Adam turned and headed for the briefing room. Its occupants were just as quiet as the rest of the city, when he arrived, walking in without announcement but observing the courtesy of standing at attention until such time as he was told otherwise.

"Ma'am," he began before anyone could say anything, "I believe that I should be party to this discussion." It seemed the tanoy system was still on.

"Sergeant," Weir replied, her sympathetic smile a little too textbook for Adam's liking. "Perhaps now is not the best time to continue this conversation. I'd like to ensure a certain level of confidentiality that isn't going to be achieved while the radio system is malfunctioning."

"With all due respect, Ma'am, I don't seem to have a lot left to hide."

"Well," Sheppard interjected, grimacing, "I think that right now the last thing everyone needs is even more bad news. Why don't you head back down to your quarters – take a break – we'll give you a buzz when things are figured out up here."

Adam felt his jaw tighten, "Sir – "

"Perhaps we should move to your office, Elizabeth," Beckett suggested quietly.

"My office has glass walls, I'm not sure that it would be any more appropriate than where we are." She turned to Adam and addressed him directly again. "Sgt. Stackhouse, did you sleep at all, last night? You seem exhausted."

"I'm fine, ma'am."

"I'm not quite sure I agree. Maybe Maj. Sheppard's advice is the wisest for the time being. We can discuss this when you're feeling better."

"Ma'am," he began, swallowing his pride along with a helpless sob, "I don't see such a time arising. Everybody seems to be aware that I lost more than a close friend, yesterday, and right now I will take any excuse I can to get away from the city and keep occupied."

The looks of pity on their faces were accompanied by a final burst of static and Zelenka's grim voice announcing, "Dr. Weir, the problem is temporarily resolved. We will continue to address this issue later." And then there was silence once more.

"Ma'am – Sir – I do not want to withdraw from normal duties, especially not at a time like this. The first things I would assume we need to do – to secure the alphasite, for example – those are responsibilities which usually fall to my team. I can not let them, or the city down."

"Adam, nobody is questioning your ability to lead your team – "

"With all due respect, Dr. Weir, ma'am," Adam cut in, not looking at Bates, "If that was the case, my weapons would not have been confiscated."

"Standard procedure," Bates muttered, not meeting anyone's eye as his scowled at the table top.

"If I'd wanted to do that, I have plenty of bootlaces, sheets, shaving materials, a utility knife and access to kitchen utensils which would have sufficed. Not to mention access to the armoury, and potentially, the weapons of other members of the expedition, Gunnery Sergeant."

"Sounds like you've thought it through."

"I have been a marine for over a decade, I didn't have to think about it."

"Adam, son," Beckett began, folding his hands on the table and giving him one of his painfully sympathetic looks, "Maybe a chat with Dr. Heightmeyer would assuage everybody's concerns. You have suffered a rather significant loss; it'd be understandable if you were feeling slight off kilter for a wee while."

"I'd say a long while," Sheppard added, one eyebrow arched as he nodded slowly, turning a pen over in his fingers, "Given what I seem to be learning, here."

"Maj. Sheppard, sir, I understand your obligations in light of this information, but I am prepared to serve as usual while we stand to be attacked by the Wraith. I _wish to_. We know they're coming, sir – I'm sure we'll need all hands on deck – but I am..." Adam trailed off, realising that if this happened, he was losing literally everything he had in the space of twenty-four hours. Regardless, he cleared his throat and continued, "I am prepared to accept discharge – honourable or otherwise – for my behaviour, as is customary or deemed fit in the circumstances. Although I understand that I don't have much choice, either way, sir."

"Finicky rules aren't exactly what concerns me, right now," Sheppard informed him, slowly. "I just think you should get checked out, get some rest, and let command decide what we need to do."

Adam gave a small sigh and nodded, "Yes, sir." Nobody seemed to be taking him seriously.

 

The entire control room was watching him when he left. No one said a word, but the weight of the atmosphere was suffocating. The corridors were mostly empty and no one stopped to talk to him; he was almost back to his quarters when Fauske's voice called his name. He didn't stop, just kept on walking without even breaking pace. There were lead weights in the pit of his stomach, certain that the support the other marine had offered that morning would be retracted. When Fauske's hand closed over his shoulder, Adam didn't even bother raising his hands in self-defence. He couldn't care less if they broke his nose or put him in the infirmary, and it wasn't as if he had his own gun to paint any more.

And he wasn't going to deny him, even if by some miracle the entire base wasn't amply clear on the details, there was no way he could bring himself to deny what Jamie meant to him. So he stood and raised his eyes to meet the taller marine's defiantly, and found a sadness he hadn't anticipated.

One hand fisted in the shoulder of Adam's jacket, the other clasped on to the side of his face to make sure he didn't look away. "Chrissakes, Stack!" he huffed frustratedly, patting his cheek briefly and gripping both his shoulders instead, "You sure know how to make your life difficult, man."

Adam just looked at him.

"You know, half the ladies on this base got their hearts broke yesterday – we're going to have them all just jumping off the balconies, now!" Fauske told him with an awkward laugh.

"What?"

"Well, between you, Toto and our blond-and-blue baby Andy you had just about all the girls without an officer fetish clawing each other's eyes out."

" _We what?_ "

"Well, I guess it just means more for everyone else, now they ain't hankering after none of you."

Adam pushed Fauske's hands away and headed for his door, but found himself grasped by the arm, this time.

"Hey, listen: don't go hiding away again because the fact is, you don't have Jamie here to take care of you anymore and most of the guys aren't going to help you unless you help yourself. But mostly, what I'm saying is – _it's okay_. Far as we're concerned, none of that conversation up there ever happened."

There was a little relief, at first, but instead of accepting, Adam shook his head. "No. No – Jay... He wanted people to know. I promised him. And now he got his wish."

"Adam, Jamie's _gone_. You're not gonna – "

"I owe it to him, okay? Just leave me alone."

 

Most of the next eight hours were spent staring at his ceiling. He snatched a few minutes sleep, here and there, always waking to the feel of an invisible, crushing weight across his chest as the truth of what had happened returned to him. He couldn't seem to get warm, even when he kicked off his boots and wrapped himself in his blanket. In the end he stopped trying and dragged the small bundle of possessions he had taken from Jamie's room off of the bedside cabinet and unwrapped them. One by one, he took the pictures out and propped them along the ridge that ran around the walls of the room, a foot above his headboard. Even the one of Jamie's family. The only one he hid was the one of himself sleeping in Jamie's bed at the farm; he kept one of them from McMurdo, sitting on the worn brown couch, and carefully tore away the half which featured Walters, Jonesy and Corby, before slipping it into his breast pocket.

Jamie was laughing in the photograph, arm stretched out down the back of the seats; Adam's chin dipped to his chest, holding something small in his hand out of Jamie's reach. It seemed such a long time ago. It was, he supposed. The red digital numbers burned into the edge of the shot showed that it was more than a year and a half before.

All Adam had had to lose then was a career.

Funny, how things changed.

Standing up, he took the folded piece of paper with his name on, and made for the door. He couldn't stay here, all day.

Walking into Jamie's room felt strange. Nothing had moved since he left, but it felt different. Adam opened the blinds to allow some late afternoon light to filter in through the window and the door to the small balcony Jamie had been lucky enough to have. He stood between the desk and the bed and gazed around at the scattered possessions and dust particles dancing in beams of sunlight. It didn't feel empty. He'd expected the room to feel as hollow and cold as he did, the long hours he'd spent there after they returned to the city the day before, confused and dreamlike. It didn't seem real.

Without really knowing why, he found himself stooping to pick up some of the clothes dumped on the floor the last time they'd been here together. He folded them meticulously and piled them on the corner of the desk, before turning his attention to the still unmade bed. He wondered, distantly, if he should launder the sheets, but that felt too much like washing away what they had, so he neatly made the bed, running his hand wistfully over the pillow. Smoothing away the dip from which Jamie had smiled sleepily and mumbled, 'I love you' maybe thirty-six hours ago.

_Jamie grinned like a cat, sunning himself in the rays of late morning Seattle sunshine, "I'm staying right here all day."_

_"Oh, you are, huh?" Adam asked, turning back the covers and moving to climb out of bed._

_"I sure am. And you are, too. I'm your guest, after all."_

_"And what if I don't want to?"_

_Jamie crawled over, wrapping warm arms around Adam's shoulders and across his bare chest, dotting kisses to the back of his neck, "Then I'll have to change your mind..."_

_He hadn't failed. They whiled the day in what Jamie referred to as 'eiderdown sin', giggling like a teenage girl and relishing what he thought made them free. Whatever else they were, they were happy, and that was all that had mattered._

 

Adam was beginning to feel the energy sapping out of him, again. He sank down onto the bed and tugged the pillow on to his lap, before pulling out the letter from his pocket. This time, he took more time to study it; the spelling mistakes and the childlike happiness over Adam's confession of his feelings. The way how, in his final statement – _Love always, Jxx_ – 'always' was underlined so many times the ink had almost seeped through the paper.

"Oh, _Jay_..." he murmured, surprised when he realised he'd uttered the words out loud. But it felt good. It felt good to speak to him again, even if he wasn't there. So, glancing at the door to make sure no one was listening, he continued, "Jamie... God, Jamie, I'm so sorry. It should have been me. I'd... well, if you're still around, like you always said you would be, then I just want to tell you that I'd give anything – anything at all – to have you back..." He paused, taking a breath and trying to ignore the feeling in his stomach that told him he was cracking up. Talking to his dead boyfriend; only crazy people thought they could speak to the dead. 

"I'm going to miss you so much, Jay. You're the best thing that ever happened to me... The only person who ever took the time to think about me instead of what they wanted of me, and I just don't see the – the _point_ in being here if I can't have you with me." He stopped again, taking a breath to clear the lump in his throat. "Y'know, Bates thinks I'm going to shoot myself the first chance I get... Truth be told, it doesn't sound like all that bad an idea. But I know you'd be so pissed if I did and... right now they need every pair of hands they can find, around here.

"You know I never believed we'd get home – looks a whole lot less like it, now the Wraith are coming – but I promise, if I ever get there, I'll tell your mom what really happened. I'll tell her how you tried so hard to protect us – and – and you know it worked, because the dart..."

He stopped again, pressing the back of his hands to his mouth as the sight of smoke and fire, and the sound of tiny pellets of debris rose unbidden to his mind. "Jesus."

There was no time to carry on, as a quiet knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. A moment later, it slid open to reveal Marc, leaning against the wall and gazing at him with carefully measured concern.

"Hey."

"What do you want?"

"Just checking you're okay. Beckett was looking for you."

Adam sighed and stood up, shoving the letter back into his pocket and putting the pillow back in its place. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"What did Beckett want?"

"Are you _sure_ , Adam?"

"You mean aside from the fact that Jamie's dead?"

Bates seemed taken aback by the bluntness of the statement, and simply stared at him.

"I promise not to blow my brains out on your watch; that make you feel better?"

Ignoring the obviously facetious comment, Bates moved into the room and picked up the velcro patches from the desk top, where Adam had put them, and simply said, "If you want to take it out on me, that's fine. But you know where to find me when you stop being an asshole.

"Beckett's in the infirmary. You should go see him. I want you on duty for tomorrow."

He was gone before Adam really had a chance to register what had happened.

 

Beckett seemed miles away, when Adam walked into his office. He sat at his desk, staring pensively into the middle distance, one hand fisted against his mouth; but he still offered him a weary smile when he saw Adam had arrived.

"Bates said you wanted to see me," he said without preamble. Just looking at Beckett reminded him of the attack and the argument and of yesterday and the moment in the jumper bay when Adam had almost been in the same jumper as Jamie.

"Aye, son, I do," Beckett said, standing up and picking up his stethoscope, ushering him back into the infirmary proper. "I just wanted to give you a wee check up and pass you for off-world activity in the morning. They'll be sending you out again, I hear."

Beckett patted the gurney nearest the door and Adam climbed on to it, trying to ignore the fact it was the same one that Jamie had sat on to have his broken arm cast.

"Lucky me."

"Could you just take off your jacket for me, please? Thanks." Beckett paused for a moment, staring at the tags around Adam's neck until Adam remembered he had put Jamie's on there and stuffed them inside his t-shirt. "How are you holding up, son?"

The earnestness in the doctor's blue eyes made him flinch and look away, but he began to understand how Jamie had found himself opening up to him so easily. "Well, I've been better," Adam confessed, trying for a smile and instead giving what he was quite sure was a grimace.

"You know that yeh don't have to just carry on as if nothing's happened, don't you? People understand. You've everyone's sympathy just at the moment."

"I don't want people's sympathy – I want Jamie back."

Beckett concentrated on putting the strap of the blood pressure monitor around Adam's arm, although his hands stilled for a moment when Adam spoke. "Everybody's going to miss the lad; I don't think you realise how popular he was."

"I do. He was like the fucking mascot for this expedition. Everyone loved sweet, baby-faced Sgt. Markham – even the Athosian kids. But he wasn't a mascot to me." 

"He used to come and see me quite a lot, for a while. I think he just wanted someone to talk to," Beckett said, his soft Scots voice sounding sad and thoughtful. "You're all he ever spoke about. He mentioned his family, once or twice, but mostly it was just you. He came all the way out here because of you, didn't he?"

"It's my fault..." 

"No – not at all, son. I didn't know Jamie as well as you, but I know that's not the way he'd want you to think. You can't blame yourself for this, Adam."

"He was so happy..." It didn't take any effort at all to visualise Jamie's face in the jumper bay when they arrived back from the mainland, glowing with contentment and overflowing with such affection. "He wanted to tell everyone so bad, but I always said no because I was so sure they'd take him away from me. Yesterday... yesterday we were supposed to tell Sheppard and Weir, and then, a soon as we decide to do that, he was taken away from me. It sure feels like my fault, even if it sounds a little crazy."

"Adam, I was there. No one could have prevented that happening the way it did – nobody could even see the dart coming."

"But – "

"Adam, son: you are _not_ responsible for what happened. Not even a little bit. You meant everything to him, and he would not want you thinking like this. Pull yourself out of it, lad, and do Jamie's memory proud. He died protecting the rest of us, now you do the same and don't let such a young life be wasted."

But the seeds of guilt had already been planted.

 

It was a few days later, all of which had been spent scouring the alphasite for a suitable spot for a base camp, that Adam returned to Atlantis and was met at the door to his quarters by Bates. Adam walked in without saying anything, stripping off his assault vest and dropping it on the bed before simply asking, "What?"

Bates gave a frustrated sigh but said only, "Lt. Ford's working a project to get messages home. I thought you might want to know."

"Why's that? You, of all people, ought to know I don't have anyone to send a message to."

"I thought Jamie's family might prefer to hear it from you. Weir's recording her own messages, but I know that if it was my son, I'd want to hear it from the person he thought enough of to leave everything behind for."

When Adam turned around to ask what had been important enough for Bates to leave his family for, the other marine was already gone.

 

Aiden seemed to be finding it hard to meet Adam's eye, when he walked in. He'd barely seen the lieutenant since before it had happened, and they certainly hadn't been shut in a confined space together since Jamie died. Ford just gestured to the seat in front of the camera and began to twist at apertures and the tiny screen as if he wanted to do anything but engage Adam in conversation.

"What do you want me to do?" Adam asked him, taking a deep breath and sitting down.

"Just... all you have to do is say your message when the red light comes on."

He'd been thinking about what he wanted to say for the past hour, but nothing seemed to fit or do Jamie – or his family – the justice they deserved. Sitting there, suddenly challenged with explaining everything, the words disappeared altogether.

"Lynn, Jimmy... everyone," he swallowed and rubbed his thumbs over the folded piece of paper he clutched in his hands. "I'm not the person you probably want to hear from, but I'm afraid... Jamie can't do this himself." The lump in his throat seemed to come out of nowhere. "I'm so, so sorry to have to tell you this – more than you could ever know – but a few days ago, Jamie was... _Jammy_... was killed trying to defend everyone else here. 

"I can't tell you what I would give to trade places with him, or how much I wish I had made him stay – on Ear... Kansas. How much I wish I'd made him stay in Kansas. It's all I've been able to think of since... I just wish so hard that I had never taken him from you. For what it's worth, he didn't suffer. It – it all just happened in a second; he was just gone."

He stopped, taking a moment to compose himself; Aiden looked at him for a second and his eyes seemed wide and damp before he nodded and turned to slip from the room.

"Jammy wanted you to know how much he loved you – especially Lucy. I know he'd have given anything to be back there with you all and that he missed you real bad. I hope... I hope that one day you can forgive me for taking him away from you. I don't think I can.

"Things are looking kind of bleak for us, right now. More and more like none of us will be home again – not that I guess it matters, now. So take care of each other, and God bless."

He was still sitting there when Aiden peeked around the door a few minutes later. "Adam? Are you done?" he asked, his usually excitable voice heavy.

Staring at his hands, Adam started to nod, but realised he still had one thing left to do. "Wait – no. No, I have one more." He cleared his throat and addressed the camera again, "Maggie: it's... well, it's me. I hope you're alright. I just wanted to say I miss you and that I hope you settled into the apartment okay. Things here... well. We lost Jamie. Just about sums it up... I don't have anything else to tell you. Just be safe and be happy and if I never see you again – you were a great little sister. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you more... Goodbye."

Walking out into the corridor, Adam's insides were coiled in knots. He was so close to tears he ducked his head and prayed that no one would try to talk to him on the way back to his quarters, because he didn't think he could get through a conversation without humiliating himself. He wasn't quick enough.

He has just stepped into the transporter when Marc appeared. He tried to pretend he wasn't there, at first, not returning his greeting, but Bates was having none of it.

"This information does not leave these four falls, Staff Sergeant," Bates said, staring fixedly at the wall ahead of him. "When I was seventeen years old my hero was my brother, Anthony. You remind me of him in _certain_ ways. But you see, Anthony was killed in the Gulf when I was still at school. It's on record as an accident, but no one ever could explain the boot marks. So next time you find yourself thinking of me as a mean son of a bitch who only wanted to make life hard for you – you think about that, okay? Maybe you'll understand a little better and you can stop being so goddamn angry."

A moment later, the doors opened and Bates walked away.

Standing in the infirmary, staring at the tubes and machinery keeping Marc alive, just a couple of days later, it was all Adam could think of.

All too soon, finding the time to think at all became a luxury. Against all odds, Earth made contact and there seemed to be hope. But not for Adam. The messages had been what brought them to Pegasus – his messages to Jamie's family and Maggie, gave him away even if no one in the expedition would. When this was over they'd take him back to Earth and deal with him; throw him out of the USMC and prove what a failure and a let down he had been all along.

But they were losing. The Wraith had arrived and were pouring into the city like a plague; not even Earth could save them from this. There didn't seem to be anything left to save, for Adam.

 

_He tore at Fauzzy's grip, trying to get away, trying to get back and face the monster who had taken everything from him. He didn't stop struggling until the sounds of gunshots rang out down the corridors from the brig, telling them both that it was too late. Sheppard had exacted a revenge of his own._

_All he'd wanted was a chance to take revenge for Jamie. For himself. For Marc and Andy. For the families of all those who had lost their children and their loved ones since they had arrived on Atlantis. Until that moment, Adam held it together; he'd made himself carry on until the only thing holding him together was a pain that ran through him like razor wire._

_But as Fauzzy released the armlock he held him in, it was as if someone had cut his strings. Sinking to the floor right where he was, he cried like he'd never stop._

 

They were supposed to be in teams, but Adam had turned a corner and suddenly found himself alone. He turned back, but the corridor was deserted. His heart raced. Every movement he made seemed deafening; the rustle of his uniform, the squeak of his boots on the metal floors... The Wraith were everywhere. They had already seen the corpses of others – brittle husks in marpat, identifiable only by their tapes. Having to step over the shrivelled bodies of his team mates and friends was harder on Adam now than it ever had been. Watching the way they had rallied around him, closing rank and protecting him from the looks of the new marines they had drafted in, he'd realised how wrong he had been and regretted not trusting them as much as he regretted never apologising to Marc before it was too late.

Ahead of him, as he turned into another corridor, he saw a balcony. Maybe six other marines manned artillery there, and he broke into a run, sprinting towards them only to skid to a stop a moment later, crashing backwards and whacking his head on the floor so that he almost blacked out. The balcony was empty. In one sweep the entire squad was gone.

For a minute, he sat where he was, gazing at the deserted guns in front of him. Two seconds later and he would have been snatched with them. Crawling on to his feet, leaning against the wall for support as the city whirled ominously around him, Adam set off back the way he had come. He felt like the nightmare had begun when Jamie was killed, and only now was it reaching its climax. He'd never been this afraid in combat, not once.

It was growing clear that he was concussed, as he stumbled into a stairwell somewhere towards the East of the central complex of spires. He couldn't work out where, exactly, but aside from the distant sound of shellfire, it was quiet. He felt nauseous and his legs kept trying to crumple beneath him, so he sat huddled in a corner for a few minutes, trying to draw some strength together to move on again.

Suddenly, he heard voices echoing down the corridor below – voices that he recognised.

"Billy?" he shouted, reaching for the handrail to pull himself to his feet again, relief at no longer being alone giving him more strength that he'd thought he had. "Williams, is that you?"

"STACK?" It was Fauske's voice that responded, instantly followed by the sound of boots thudding on metal; but a second after that there were two soft _shwoomps_ and the unmistakeable sound of bodies falling limply to the ground.

Adam froze.

Replacing the sounds of his friends' footfalls were the thunderous strides of a Wraith. They were unmistakeable, solid and confident and they even rang with the sound of _doom doom doom_.

His fingers tightened around his P90 until they hurt, terror creeping up his spine until he was sure his knees would fail and pitch him down the steps. He raised the gun, ready to fire, not even sure how many bullets he had left, and waited for the Wraith to appear. A second later, there it was, hissing at him as it paused at the foot of the stairs. Adam pulled the trigger to open fire – he had the advantage of the higher ground, it was just one Wraith and he held a defensible position – but nothing happened. The firing mechanism was jammed and there was no way this particular weapon would function again until it was replaced.

Panicking, Adam dropped the P90 and scrambled for the Berretta in his thigh holster, wondering, hollowly, if Jamie had felt this fear as he saw the dart ahead of them. He fired and fired but with each shot, the Wraith merely took another step towards him.

"Why do you resist?" it rasped, mockingly. "Do you wish to see your race in ruins when we are finished?"

Adam closed his eyes and just continued shooting until the gun gave the dull, stomach-lurching _click_ of an emptied magazine. 

"I smell your fear."

There was another magazine – maybe two – stashed in his vest, but Adam didn't reach for them. It was too late, now, anyway. They were losing – there wasn't a thing left for him to fight for, even if he escaped. So he opened his eyes, and tossed the Berretta away. He would do this on his terms; he could already feel himself growing drowsy, his knees becoming more and more unsteady. 

_I'm sorry, Jamie_.

"I will savour your foolish resistance, Lantian," it told him, reaching the top step, just arm's distance away. 

But Adam blacked out before it ever touched him, distantly aware of someone reaching for his hand.


End file.
